Theres None So Blind As Those Who Will Not See
by Gimme-Chan
Summary: Chapter 10! More Red Alert/Inferno! Red gets an unexpected visit from two very familiar mechs from his past. P/J will be sprinkled in. It is slashy, some angst. *Been Warned*
1. Target Acquired

Warning!! Contains some slash now and will have much more slash later! Don't like slash or yaoi, please don't read. You've been warned! Thanks!

Edited by the wonderful **Taralynden**

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Chapter 1-

Jazz/Prowl

-

Jazz. Confident, intelligent, witty, charming, persistent. Those were just some of the qualities Jazz held and he was thankful for every one of them. He would haveto call on every ounce of said qualities and more if he was to obtain what he wanted. And what he wanted sat across the conference table from him in the form of a gorgeous black and white tactician. The vibrant red chevron gracing his helm and lustrous black and white doorwings adorning his back made him an exotic treat to the saboteur's optics.

Few mechs had that same make. In fact, in all his time he could only name two similar models:Smokescreen and Bluestreak. Although intriguing in their own way, neither had grabbed his attention. Not like this one. No, this one made Jazz itch to touch. Made him want to run his hands across and along those regal doorwings, press his mouth to that red chevron and nip at it, kiss him slow and thoroughly as he mapped out the others mouth with his glossa. Fantasies blossomed in his mind as he continued to drink in the sight of the new tactician.

The meeting and its speakers had long since become background noise, uninteresting and unimportant. His visor afforded him the ability to look like he was paying attention to the speaker while really he was focused solely on the tactician. At one point he must have noticed or at least felt Jazz's heavy gaze as the tactician turned his head slightly to cast a glance in the saboteur's direction. And Jazz didn't bother to hide his leering grin. The tactician merely shot Jazz a short glare and disapproving frown before returning his attention to the speaker.

Oh, this mech was as straight laced, uptight, and restrained as they came. Jazz doubted he was all that different behind closed doors. That was ok though. For Jazz that meant a challenge and the payoff would be even better and sweeter when he would finally reduce the rigid tactician to moaning, whimpering, and writhing beneath him. Images began to play themselves out in his mind and Jazz had to force himself to leave that line of thought as his systems started to heat up. It would do him no good to get all revved up in the middle of a meeting.

Primus, he wanted that mech! Jazz had to have him…would have him, and he would use every ability he had to ensnare and possess the tactician. Prowl would be his.

--

Prowl couldn't find a logical reason as to why the leader of the Special Ops branch and soon to be named Third in Command had set his sights on him. The visored mech, designation Jazz, had seen fit to place himself in Prowl'sway ever since his introductory meeting. Prowl had tried to ignore him at first, figuring the mech was just being overly friendly as Jazz was to all the Commander'screw. But then Prowl noticed Jazz doing things out of character or more to the point, things he hadn't done prior to Prowls arrival.

Like with the record vaults. Before Prowl, Jazz had not visited the record vaults in vorns. Prowl took notice that Jazz's name was showing up with more frequency under his own every time he returned to the record vaults for research material. Then it started that Jazz would "suddenly" happen upon him there and announce himself with the line "Fancy seein' you here". This was usually followed by Jazz generously offering to forfeit his own search in order to aid Prowl's. And Prowl was always quick to turn him down.

Prowl was a early morning bot and from everything he had gathered, Jazz was not. So Prowl was rightly shocked when morning after morning he found himself running into Jazz just outside his quarters as he was leaving for his office. And Prowl was quickly finding that every corridor he turned down, there was Jazz. Every time he went to the rec area to get energon, no matter the time of day or night or the intervals between visits, there was Jazz. The mech spontaneously appeared everywhere.

Enough was enough, Prowl had tried to ignore the problem and hope Jazz would lose interest and wander away; however, that was not the case. This was not the first time Prowl had had an over ambitious admirer. He did what he had done before and calmly explained to Jazz he simply had no interest in any kind of liaison and that Jazz should focus his attentions elsewhere, on some other bot who would be more receptive to Jazz's advances than Prowl himself was. And that should have ended of the matter. However, Prowl had never met a mech like Jazz.

At the end of Prowl's 'I think you should look elsewhere' speech, Jazz simply nodded and grinned, asking,

"So, hows about you an' I go get a couple a cubes 'a high grade? Find some place cozy."

Prowl frowned, he felt he had made no mistake and had been very clear with Jazz.

"Perhaps I should start over. I -"

The saboteur began to lean into Prowl, forcing him back into the wall, as Jazz placed a hand on either side of the tactician just above the splayed doorwings.

"Why don't we go on back ta my place 'an you can start that speech over as many times as ya like", Jazz grinned, almost purring the words at Prowl, "I promise ta listen."

Prowl could only stare at him for a moment, taken aback by the blatant suggestiveness of Jazz's tone. He pushed himself away from the wall and away from Jazz who had yet to lose that grin. Prowl turned around sharply and began to walk away, doorwings drawn back and twitching minutely in irritation. He had talked to Jazz in as open and logical manner as possible and the stubborn mech had simply refused to listen. As if to confirm Prowls thoughts, he heard Jazz call out to his retreating back,

"My door'salways open to you, Prowlie! Anytime."

Prowl froze then continued walking away, forcing himself not to look back or respond to Jazz. It would only spur him on. Jazz was simply being....difficult.

***Authors Notes****

Reading and reviewing is always loved :)


	2. Knowledge Expanded

Thank you sooooooooo much to everyone who reviewed!

Warning!! Contains some slash now and will have much more slash later! Don't like slash or yaoi, please don't read. You've been warned! Thanks!

This is mostly Jazz/Prowl, with some hints of Sunny/Blue (that'll be in later chapters)

Oh and "stellar cycle" is about 6 months and a "cycle" is about a day.

Beta edited by the wonderful **Taralynden**

* * *

Chapter 2 -

Still Jazz/Prowl

Prowl sat, back straight, shoulders squared, doorwings fanned out to accommodate the backing on the chair as he dutifully watched the many monitors before him. Focusing on one monitor in particular as he watched a certain mech sneaking around the halls, acting suspiciously. Prowl had been at this base for less than a stellar cycle and was becoming more familiar with the...dare he say, quirky crew. He became aware shortly after his arrival that Optimus Prime most certainly had edited the reports sent to him when Prime was trying to convince and recruit Prowl to join his crew as Second in Command. There were many things not mentioned in those reports.

Aside from a persistent Jazz, there was Mirage, who was known to go around the base invisible. At first, Prowl thought Mirage was using his cloaking device to spy around the base and cause trouble. Upon more observation Prowl found this not to be the case. Mirage didn't cause trouble at all, he pretty much kept to himself aside from a few close friends. And as Prowl observed him over time, it seemed Mirage would cloak himself at random to do the most mundane of things...going for a walk, delivering a report, getting wax for his armor, or a cube of energon from the rec area...it baffled Prowl.

And then there were Tracks and Sunstreaker, Prowl had never met mechs so infuriatingly vain. Prowl had believed Jazz to be overly confident but Tracks and Sunstreaker blew Jazz out of the water. Sunstreaker took to strutting around the base like he knew every mech in existence wanted him and Tracks wasn't much better. Tracks was beyond sure that everyone was jealous of just how gorgeous he was, including Sunstreaker, which lead to fights. As if that wasn't enough foolishiness, those two would try get out of patrol duty by claiming the weather wasn't 'conducive' to their paint jobs. Prowl let them know under no uncertain terms that they would show up for duty, they would go out on patrol or they would spend time in the brig. And just how 'conducive' would that be to their paint jobs? Needless to say, Prowl had to deal with a huffy Sunstreakerand a sulking Tracks until the two realised he wasn't going to give in.

And then there was Sideswipe, Sunstreaker's twin brother. The red front line warrior had been described by Optimus Prime as 'playful'. Prowl did not agree with that description. In fact, at the moment, Sideswipe was topping Prowl's slag list. The red twin seemed to enjoy targeting Prowl. He had on numerous occasions set up buckets full of anything from water, to various oils, to even energon rigged to come sloshing down on him and coat him in whatever substance that particular bucket held. Optimus Prime called him 'playful', Prowl was not amused. And that brought him back to where he was now, watching the monitors closely as Sideswipe slunk about the halls. Prowl leaned forward to look more closely at the monitor, doorwings drawing back some in concentration. He was up to something, now if only Prowl could catch him on the cameras, solid evidence, no speculation……

Prowl never heard the Security Room door open, nor the footsteps walking up behind him, didn't notice anything until a black hand snaked out and rested against the screen of the monitor next to the one Prowl had been so closely observing. Prowl started and would havesat straight up had the sensitive array of sensors in his back and doorwings not brought to his attention that whoever was hunched over him was close. Close enough if Prowl moved back at all he'd be pressed up against him. Out of the corner of his left optic, Prowl saw a black helm level with his own. He case a sideways glance to see none other than Jazz. A small smile played on Jazz's mouth as he looked straight ahead, almost innocently watching the monitor Prowl had been observing.

"Tryin' ta catch'im in the act?"

Prowl snapped his attention back to the monitor, frowning deeply. He was sure he had locked the Security Room door, he wouldn't make such a foolish mistake as to not lock it.

"Don' worry, ya locked the door, Prowlie." Jazz informed him without the slightest turn of his head or removing his visored gaze from the monitors.

Prowl's optics widened a touch at that. Primus, could the mech now read minds too?

"I just happened ta dig around some an' found the entry code. An' no, ya don' have ta worry 'bout any kinda security risk cause the astrosecond Red's back in his chair, he'll 'a changed the access code three times before ya hit the end of the hall".

Prowl would have responded to that with a list of the rules the saboteur had broken but the sensors in his right doorwing alerted him to just how close Jazz's other hand was to touching him, to grabbing a hold of the sensitive panel. Prowl was not about to let the saboteur get a grip on his doorwing.

"Jazz, you lay one finger on my doorwing and not even Ratchet will be able to piece you back together." Prowl practically growled, and felt a twinge of satisfaction as that wiped the smile from Jazz's face plates.

Jazz hesitated then drew his hand away from the tempting doorwing, thinking better of it. He tilted his head slightly toward Prowl, small smile now in place, "Wouldn't dream of it, Prowlie."

Prowl turned his head toward Jazz, glaring, "What do you want, Jazz?"

Jazz had to struggle to reign in the grin that threaten to split across his face plates. That was such a loaded question.

"I just came here ta see if I can get ya anything, like some energon maybe. After all this is what, your third shift in a row now?" Prowl looked forward toward the monitors once more.

"I'm helping Red Alert. He needed some……personal time."

Jazz merely nodded, "Hmmmm, and what about after this shift, Prowler? Lemme guess, ya have some reports that will require your attention, huh?"

Prowl remained silent.

Jazz shook his head a little, "Ya worry me, Prowlie, ya gonna work yourself right off line."

Prowl stared straight ahead at the monitors, "I'll be fine, Jazz."

"Ya sure, Prowlie?"

"Yes, Jazz."

"Ya don' want me to get anything for ya?"

"No."

"Ya sure?"

"Leave."

"Alright."

Jazz pushed himself away from the monitors and Prowl, backing up a few steps. Prowl sat up straight, doorwings flexing a bit in stiffness.

"Ya sure I can't get ya anything?"

"Get out, Jazz."

Jazz grinned, "Sure thing, Prowlie!"

The saboteur walked over to the door, activating it to slide open. Half way out he paused, turning his head to look at Prowl who had once again returned to watching the monitors, and grinned, "I'll see ya later, lover" and disappeared through the door.

Prowl turned sharply around but only saw the closed Security door. He shook his head, that was inappropriate...fragging saboteur.

--

Despite having been shot down by Prowl again, Jazz couldn't help the smile that graced his face as he walked away from the Security Room. Up till just now, Jazz had never heard more than soft spoken calm words flow from Prowl: even when reprimanding the twins, Prowl's voice remained controlled, calm, and level. The fact that Prowl had 'growled' at him with a threat, it had given Jazz a slight thrill, had almost made him shiver against Prowl as he said it.

He had pushed Prowl far enough to break that cold and rigid exterior, pushed Prowl far enough he showed emotion. Of course Jazz wasn't stupid, he wasn't about to push Prowl too far. Jazz wanted a reaction from Prowl, not a one way trip to the Med Bay. And it was as he had just passed by said Med Bay that he heard some distressing cries,

"Ow! That's....Ow, Ratchet!…that's…that hurts...Ow!"

Jazz stopped, he knew that voice. He backed up and peered through the Med Bay doors. On one of the med berths sat Bluestreak, Ratchet standing on the other side seemingly trying to grab at the gunner's doorwings, all the while Blue was twisting this way and that trying to evade the medics grasp. From an outsider's point of view, Jazz was finding this scene quite comical.

"Primus frag it, Bluestreak! If you don't hold still right now…"

"I'm sorry, Ratchet! It's just they really hurt!"

"Of course they do! It sounds like you dislocated both of them at the hinges, now hold still...."

"OW!"

"Slag it, Bluestreak! I haven't even touched you yet!"

Jazz grinned to himself and stepped into the Med Bay to help both of them out, poor Blue needed a distraction and Ratchet didn't need to be wound up anymore then he already was.

"Hey Ratchet! Hey, Blue! What's all this now?"

Jazz grinned to both of them as he approached the med berth Bluestreak sat on.

Ratchet motioned to Bluestreak, "Bluestreak here just got a reminder as to why he's a sharpshooter and not a front line warrior."

Jazz looked to Bluestreak who had started to fidget and gained a rather sheepish expression, "Sunstreaker offered to teach me some self defense moves. I don't think he realized how sensitive doorwings are....an-and we both got caught up in the mock fight -"

Ratchet cut him off, "And now you're here. You took one heck of a crash. I hope you realize it'll be several cycles till the joints stop aching."

Bluestreak nodded, fidgeting more, "He-Sunstreaker didn't mean any harm."

Ratchet snorted and Jazz got the feeling that if Sunstreaker were to ask Blue to a mock fight tomorrow, Blue would probably agree to it, even if it was against his better judgement. Jazz made a mental note to keep an optic out for those two. Sounded like there might be something there and Jazz didn't want to miss out on anything, he hated being the last to know something.

It was then Ratchet reached out and latched onto a doorwing and from where Jazz was standing in front of Bluestreak, he could see the poor gunner tense as his optics widened.

"Bluestreak...don't you move. I need to see where its dislocated." Ratchet gently tilted the doorwing so he could look into the joint.

Jazz looked at Bluestreak, "You know, Blue, I had no idea doorwings were so sensitive."

Bluestreak nodded then whimpered as Ratchet poked a hinge, "They're……they're r-really sensitive. E-especially the...ah!...hinges and...eh!...joints."

Ratchet straightened with a sigh, "Well, Blue, not only are they dislocated but one of your hinges is cracked. I'm going to have to take you offline to fix it. I swear to Primus, Bluestreak, you mock fight with a front liner again and I'll rip your slagging doorwings off myself, you got me!"

Bluestreak cringed then looked up with wide optics at the medic looming over him and nodded fiercely.

Jazz chuckled to himself, Ratchet loved to talk mean and fierce but would never lay a hand of harm on any bot, least of all the cute little gunner who had so quickly endeared himself to the whole crew.

Ratchet must have caught his quiet chuckle as he fixed Jazz with a glare, "You." Ratchet then pointed toward the Med Bay doors. "Out."

Jazz grinned at the medic, held up his hands in defeat, and started toward the doors, "I hope ya feel better soon, Blue!"

"Thanks, Jazz."

As Jazz left the Med Bay and headed to his quarters, he began to dwell on what little Blue had said about doorwings and how sensitive they were. They seemed extremely sensitive, no wonder Prowl had practically growled at him when he had tried to grab a hold of one. But Jazz itched to get his hands on them, he wanted to seduce Prowl that way, he wanted to run his hands over, down, and up along the edges of those delicious wings, place feathery kisses on them, run his glossa along the edge and nibble and nip at them, however he didn't want to do anything that might cause the tactician harm.

Jazz reached his quarters, went quickly inside, and sat down at his personal computer, searching. There had to be information out there on doorwing anatomy, on where to touch and where not to touch. Jazz took from subspace some energon for himself as many documents concerning doorwings began to pop up on his monitor. It was going to be a long, but useful and informative night. As Jazz began reading one of the documents, a grin broke out on his face, oh yes, this information would bring him yet one step closer to making Prowl his.

****Authors Notes*****

Jazz never gives up! Reading and reviewing is always loved! :)


	3. Routine Invasion

Warning!! Contains some slash now and will have much more slash later! Don't like slash or yaoi, please don't read. You've been warned! Thanks!

Edited by the wonderful **Taralynden**

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Ok, "Vorn" = about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" = about 6 months, "Decacycle" = about 1 week, "Cycle" = about 1 day, "Orn" = about an hour, "Breem" = about a minute

"click" = bout a mile

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Chapter 3

Jazz was an exceptional planner. As a Saboteur, Head of the Special Ops branch, and newly named Third in Command, he had to be. The success of his missions, as well as the safety of his squads, depended on him working out every detail. However, when his processor wasn't plotting out an upcoming mission, it was working on the one other plan that consumed him.

It had become his favorite pastime, his favorite game. The game of ensnaring one deliciously elusive tactician. And the game was proving harder than Jazz thought it would be. He had made it so he could "bump" into Prowl just about anywhere on the base, at any time. Prowl had seemed less than impressed by this. Of course Jazz could tell Prowl, using the prettiest and most lyrical words he knew, just how gorgeous Prowl was to him but Prowl wasn't a vain mech and Jazz knew aside from a polite 'Thank you' (as Prowl was always polite) no words of his could woo the stoic tactician.

Jazz was having to sit down and reevaluate the way he was going about this. So far his efforts had not yielded him the prize he sought. So Jazz backed off and just watched Prowl, nothing else. Just watched and watched Prowl. For about two decacycles, until a realization struck him like lightning. A realization so obvious, Jazz had to wonder why he didn't take note of it before. Dear Primus, had he been so taken with Prowl, walking around in such a haze, he had lost all sense of observation!?

All of Jazz's tricks, showing up out of nowhere to greet Prowl or "bump" into him along various halls, trips to the record vaults, had all been a waste of time and energy. Jazz now knew what the stolid tactician liked. Prowl liked routine. He thrived on it. The same motions day in and day out, over and over and over. It had to have something to do with his overdeveloped logic center. No wonder Prowl had climbed the ranks of the Autobot Army so fast.

Oh yes, Jazz had already taken the liberty of hacking into the files that contained scads of information on Prowl and his past. The most surprising piece of information Jazz found was just how young Prowl was. Slag it all, Prowl wasn't that much older than Bluestreak! And Blue was one of the youngest bots they had at the base. No wonder Prowl's age was buried so deep in his file. One would never have guessed it, Prowl acted in such a way that made him appear older and more mature than a good portion of the bots at the base.

Prowl's age aside, because, truly Jazz didn't care how old or young Prowl was, Jazz knew what he needed to do. Prowl loved his routine, so Jazz would have to become a fixed part of it. No more appearing in the rec room when Prowl was in there or showing up sporadically in a the same hall as him. No, Jazz need to plant himself into Prowl's routine permanently. To become such an intricate part of Prowl's every cycle that when the saboteur was not there, for any unexplained reason, it would bother Prowl...and Jazz already had the plan all worked out.

--

Prowl had been so good about keeping his glitch under control since his arrival, but he was sure if Jazz kept this up his entire logic center was going to shut down, he'd crash, be sent to the Med Bay and be yelled at by Ratchet. Prowl was sure when it began that this was just another way for Jazz to get him alone and proceed get too close and say inappropriate things to him. But that didn't happen.

The day it all started, he had been in his office making notes on a report he needed to finish and give to Optimus Prime, only looking up when the door to his office slid open and in stepped Jazz holding a good sized stack of data pads. Before Prowl could even question him, Jazz walked in, scooted one of two chairs up to the opposite side of the desk Prowl sat at, and made a nice neat stack out of the data pads he had brought with him on a corner of the desk Prowl had not occupied. He then sat down, picked up one of his data pads, leaned back in the chair making himself comfortable, and proceeded...to work. Prowl didn't quite know what to think or how to react. It occurred to Prowl that maybe Jazz's office had fallen victim to one of Sideswipes pranks, which could be quite destructive at times, and had come here lacking anywhere else to work.

"Jazz, is there something wrong with your office?"

Jazz simply shook his head, "Nope" and continued working on the data pad.

"Is there a reason your working in my office?"

"Yep."

Jazz didn't even look up, he just continued to work away on the data pad.

"And what would that reason be, Jazz?"

"I like your office better."

That stunned Prowl.

"Our offices are identical."

"Nope, yours is better."

"How so?"

Jazz finally looked up at Prowl, "Cause you're in it."

Jazz flashed Prowl a small grin then returned his attention to the data pad, leaving a slightly flustered, confused, and suspicious Prowl on the other side of the desk. Prowl sat for several breems watching the saboteur, watching for any movement that might give away why Jazz was really there. Jazz gave nothing away though and Prowl eventually started to work on his own reports again, still keeping a wry optic on the saboteur. Aside from Jazz putting one report down and picking up another to work on, he made no other moves.

The orn grew late, and Prowl decided to call it a night and finish the rest of the reports in the morning. Placing unfinished reports aside, Prowl noticed Jazz doing the same. Jazz got up and headed to the door and signaled for it to slide open, Prowl stood up and followed, noticing that Jazz didn't have any of the data pads he had brought with him. Looking back he saw them stacked in two piles on his desk, giving Prowl the distinct impression that Jazz would be back in his office in the morning, occupying the same spot. What the...?

"Prowler."

Prowl turned back to Jazz who was leaning tiredly against the door frame, Jazz inclined his head toward the hall,

"Ya comin', Prowler? Cycle's over an' some recharge is soundin' great right about now."

Prowl hesitated a moment then walked toward the door as Jazz unfolded himself from the door frame and stepped in the hall. He waited patiently for Prowl to lock his office and fell into step with him as they walked in the direction of their quarters, Jazz's being just down from Prowl's.

Curiosity was eating at Prowl.

"What were you working on?"

Jazz glanced at him, "Huh?"

"What report were you working on, Jazz?"

"Optimus wanted a detailed account of Mirage's an' Bee's last recon mission."

"Oh."

Prowl fell silent, that was real, Optimus had mentioned to Prowl he was going to ask Jazz for that. What Jazz had been working on was no facade. Thankfully they reached Prowl's quarters and he could go inside and fall into blissful recharge. As Prowl stopped and started to tap in the code to open his door, he saw Jazz continue to walk on to his own quarters just down the hall.

Without even turning around Jazz threw Prowl a wave, "Night Prowlie" then tabbed in his own entry code to his quarters and went inside.

Prowl stood there, shook his head, finished entering in his own code and went inside. He refused to think on it, not everything Jazz did made sense.

The next cycle found Jazz in Prowl office occupying that same chair, working on reports. And the cycle after that and the cycle after that and the cycle after that and on and on. Prowl eventually didn't even look up when Jazz would enter his office and assume his spot across the desk. The first time Prowl didn't bother to look up as Jazz entered and had simply greeted him with "Morning, Jazz", he completely missed the grin that split across the saboteur's face plates.

Four decacycles later Jazz introduced a whole new element to his invasion of Prowl's office. Strategy games. Apparently Jazz had a cache of them. One eve, as Prowl was shutting everything down, Jazz had asked if he'd be interested in playing a round or two of such a game. It was a strategy game, so of course Prowl was interested! Prowl could rarely find anyone to play him at such games, aside from Optimus every now and again when they had some down time to spare. Jazz had grinned big, told Prowl not to move from his seat and dashed out of Prowls office, sprinted to his quarters, grabbed the game and two cubes of energon he had stashed away earlier just for this occasion, and dashed back to Prowl's office.

And so it began, usually twice or more a decacycle the two black and whites would sit in Prowl's office engaged in various games, sipping on energon and occasionally some high grade.

It had to be about the third or fourth time they had sat down and played a strategy game that it occurred to Prowl that Jazz was more than fairly good at strategies. He was really good in fact. Good enough to be doing the job Prowl himself was doing. Which brought about a question in Prowls processor, why did Optimus Prime ask him to be Second in Command when Jazz seemed very qualified to do the job?

"Whats on your processor, Prowlie?"

Prowl shifted his gaze from the game to Jazz, and gave him a questioning look.

Jazz smiled, "Ya got that distant look about ya, usually means your thinkin' bout somethin' pretty deep. Whats on your processor?"

Jazz sipped on his energon, looking at Prowl expectantly.

"I was wondering why I'm here, Jazz. Why I'm in this job, this position."

Prowl watched Jazz straighten in his chair, there was now no trace of that easy grin, from behind the visor his gaze seemed to gain intensity as he focused on Prowl,

"You unhappy here, Prowl?"

Prowl looked at Jazz for a moment, trying to read him, Jazz seemed...tense.

"No, not at all, Jazz."

Prowl watched as Jazz relaxed into his chair again. What was that about?

"What do ya mean by that, Prowlie? Why would ya be wonderin' why you're in the position you're in?"

"You seem...capable of handling the duties and responsibilities that come with being Second in Command, Jazz. Why didn't Prime hand this position over to you? Why call me in?"

Jazz grinned widely,

"I'm flattered, Prowlie, truly flattered you think I could do your job. Truth of the matter is, even if I could do your job, I wouldn't want to. Heck, I didn't really want to be Third in Command. I had to sit down with Optimus and hammer out all kinds of details and conditions if I was to agree to be Third in Command. I'm Special Ops, Prowlie. Since I joined the squad way back when, careerwise I've had only one desire: to be the best there is. And I am. That eventually got me placed here, in charge of the Special Ops Division. I got what I wanted and I'm happy right where I am."

Prowl nodded as Jazz took a long drink of his energon then leaned on the desk toward Prowl,

"What about you, Prowlie? You happy right where you are?"

Prowl gave that a moment's thought, then gave Jazz a small smile,

"Yes."

--

When Jazz had put his plan in action, he didn't expect it to go as smoothly as it did. He had prepared himself to be kicked out of Prowl's office, thrown out, escorted out, something! But Prowl had done none of that. After a safe amount of time had passed, Jazz had "thanked" Prowl for letting him stay and work in his office and had expressed how glad he was that Prowl hadn't simply thrown him out. Prowl's response had been brief: "You aren't breaking any rules, Jazz, I would have no basis for throwing you out". Good ol' rule huggin' Prowl! Any other mech would have tossed Jazz out on his aft with barely a second thought.

Prowl had been at the base over a vorn now and for about the past stellarcycle Jazz had occupied his office, evey cycle. The only exception was when Jazz was on a mission, and Prowl always knew when that was since he was always in the planning of those missions. It had become an unbroken routine, until one morning when Jazz received an unexpected comm from Mirage who was needing some advice on an upcoming recon mission. Jazz headed to Mirage's quarters and spent sometime going over any questions the spy had for him. Afterwards Jazz headed back towards Prowl's office, only to be stopped by Optimus and Ironhide. Optimus and Jazz quickly went from discussing business to chit chatting about completely unrelated matters. Jazz was leaning against the wall, talking, until he heard footsteps rounding the corner behind him and saw Optimus slide his gaze from Jazz to whoever now stood behind him. Jazz turned around to find Prowl standing there, an odd expression playing lightly on his normally neutral face.

"You ok, Prowl? Ya look...bothered."

Prowl stood still for a moment,

"You didn't come to my office this morning. I waited. I... Is everything all right, Jazz?".

Prowl had a worried expression on his face and he was working to mask it. Jazz had to school himself to refrain from showing the elation he felt. Jazz had just unintentionally but very successfully upset Prowl's cycle by simply not showing up in his office this morning like he was supposed to. Upset Prowl so much he went looking for Jazz! This pretty much declared Jazz an important part of Prowl's routine. Jazz had to swallow and hold back the huge grin that wanted to break out on his face.

"My apologies, Prowl, Mirage commed me first thing this mornin' with a bunch a questions bout the mission and then I got ta talkin' with Optimus here."

"My apologies for holding Jazz up, Prowl. I wasn't aware you had a meeting with him."

Optimus, indeed, looked very apologetic; Ironhide stood by his side, an expression of distaste on his face. Of course, there was no meeting. To Jazz's knowledge, Optimus didn't yet know he was doing all his work from Prowl's office. Prowl looked like he was about to speak before Jazz stepped in. There was nothing wrong with him working in Prowl's office, however he didn't want Optimus to give Prowl a good logical reason for why he shouldn't be in there, not when everything was going so well.

"Not a problem, Optimus, Sir!" Jazz turned back to Prowl, "Lets go, Prowl." and with that Jazz turned Prowl around in the direction of his office and gave him a light push forward.

But Ironhide stopped him, "Prowl?"

Prowl stopped short and tuned back to face him, "Yes, Ironhide?"

"Yah know, if yah have need a' anythin' or if anythin's...upsettin' yah, you can always come talk ta Optimus...or me, right?"

By this point Ironhide had crossed his arms over his chest and was scowling at the floor.

Prowl seemed to think this over, "Yes, Ironhide, Thank you."

Prowl looked at Optimus and nodded, "Sir." then turned around again and started walking back to his office.

Jazz flashed Optimus and one sour-looking, grumbling, Ironhide a grin and then turned to catch up with Prowl. Falling into step with the other black and white, Jazz couldn't help but grin the entire way to Prowl's office.

--authors notes--

I had hoped to get more Jazz/Prowl mushy goodness in this chapter but it got WAY too long. So, next chapter will have it! And some angst...oh no, a Decepticon attack! Ooo, what will happen!? XD Stay tuned, chapter 4 will be up soon!

And Thanks to everyone who has read this thus far and thanks to those who took time to send a review or fav or any of that!!

And as always...You like? Then please review! Reviews let me know the story is enjoyed and to keep going :) Also questions, concerns, ideas, suggestions...feel free! :)


	4. Inner Battles

First off, Thank you to everyone who has left reviews/comments!! Thank you Thank you!! It makes me really happy to know you guys are enjoying the story and a few of you have inspired ideas for future chapters! So, Thank you everyone again! And as always, please feel free to leave a comment/review!! J

And for everyone wondering about the Prowl/Ironhide thing….well, you'll just have to wait and see how that plays out….bawhahahahaaa! XD

Edited by the wonderful **Taralynden**

-------

Warning!! Contains some slash! Don't like slash or yaoi, please don't read. You've been warned! Thanks!

-----

Ok, "Vorn" = about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" = about 6 months, "Decacycle" = about 1 week, "Cycle" = about 1 day, "Orn" = about an hour, "Breem" = about a minute

"click" = bout a mile

------

Chapter 4

The mission, the battle, none of it should have gone as bad as it did. The vorn and a half Prowl had been in his position as SIC...no, all of his time spent in the Autobot Army, had not prepared him for the slaughter they had just experienced, barely making it out of alive.

He didn't know what sparked the sudden attack on the neighboring city, Decepticons rarely needed reason to attack, but their Autobot base had answered the distress call and ran to give aid. It was all the more troubling since Jazz, Mirage, and Bumblebee had left two cycles ago to plant explosives in a reclusive Decepticon base, secreted away a few clicks from the city limits. Two cycles ago, and they hadn't heard a transmission since. The officers were fearing the worst. Jazz may be the best they had ever had, but he wasn't infallible: even the best could fall in unpredictable situations.

Prowl wasn't given much time to dwell on it as the alarms sounded and Autobots rushed to give aid to the city, a city now thick with Decepticon warriors. The city's protective walls had been brought down in large chunks. Prowl had scanned the skies carefully…no seekers. Just warriors sent to tear and render anything in their path; they rarely took prisoners.

The Autobots neared the city the two opposing sides caught sight of one another, an angry roar (from which side, Prowl couldn't be sure of) had lead the charge, a blur of forward movement as warriors rushed to meet their adversaries head on, then a hushed surreal moment right before the two sides collided bringing forth the loud resounding clang of metal bodies crashing into each other as enraged war cries and gunfire echoed off the surfaces of the fallen city.

There was no give on either side for several orns. A massive explosion in the distance distracted the Decepticons, sent a ripple of unease though them and provided the Autobots with a small window of opportunity. They took it. Autobot soldiers rushed forward, taking out any Decepticon who had been too distracted. It didn't last. For all Prowl's tactical moves, the Decepticons had superior numbers on their side. The Autobots could hold the ground they had but not advance.

Optimus ordered Prowl back. Prowl protested, he had taken hits, they all had, but he was more than capable of fighting alongside his Commander. Optimus ordered Prowl back again. Prowl was about to protest the order once more when a hand latched onto the armor by the back his neck and jerked him back, almost off his feet. When Prowl regained his balance he looked up at the angry face of Ironhide. Who proceeded to snarl at Prowl to not be stupid because if the Autobot tactician got shot and killed they could all end up getting slagged. Then he thrust Prowl behind a line of sharpshooters for safe keeping. Optimus had nodded at Ironhide's actions then instructed Prowl to direct the battle from his vantage point.

Two orns passed and Prowl could see a shift. It wasn't looking good for the Autobots. They were wearing down, they had lost numerous mechs, and now they were starting to lose ground. They had evacuated the city's residents to a safe base, not far from their own. Prowl informed Optimus of exactly where the fight was going...the Autobots were outnumbered and would eventually would lose this fight. Prowl was about to suggest a retreat when movement by the invaded wall caught his optic.

He stared, then motioned to the sharpshooter next to him, "Lend me your gun, I need the scope."

The sharpshooter quickly relinquished the weapon and Prowl lined up the scope with the movement by the wall. It was Bumblebee. Prowl scanned more with the scope and he caught sight of black and white. There was Jazz, half carrying half dragging a barely recognizable Mirage. All three looked like they'd been to the Pit and back, what had happened? Prowl commed Optimus with the news, then instructed Ironhide and his troops to draw attention away from the wall, lest the three Special Ops agents be heard or seen. Plan set into motion, Prowl commed the medics to intercept the three bots as soon as possible and get them back to base. Prowl commed Optimus again and informed him there was no winning this battle, they needed to fall back before even more Autobots were injured or killed. The city was lost. Optimus fell silent for a moment then put out the call for all Autobots to fall back.

It took another three orns before all the Autobots were safely behind the heavily barricaded walls of their base. The mechs who could, stood watch, picking off any Decepticon who dare show his face plate near the base. Inside medics hurried to deal with the damage to a vast amount of injured Autobots. Ratchet had instructed Prowl to stay in the Med Bay but with the influx of injured mechs, Prowl gladly gave up his berth to a mech in more need of it than him. He informed Ratchet his injuries were by far less severe than others and he would return the next cycle to be attended to after those more seriously injured had been seen. Ratchet had grudgingly agreed and Prowl walked out of the Med Bay. However, out of sight and with no bots around, Prowl used the wall to support himself as he limped back to his quarters. Once inside, he barely made it to his berth before falling almost immediately into recharge.

A loud THUD outside his door jerked Prowl online. He had barely left his berth and turned on the lights when the door to his quarters crashed open. Prowl could only stare in shock at the sight of Jazz. He was dented all over, dirty, dried energon stains from barely patched wounds dotted his frame, cracked armor all over, Prowl could even see where some of the cracks had been newly mended. Jazz swayed some even as he clung to the door frame. He looked around, he seemed unfocused, lost. Prowl wondered if he was looking for his own quarters, charging into Prowl's by mistake.

"Jazz?" Prowl spoke his name tentatively, softy, not wanting to startle him.

Jazz snapped his gaze to Prowl and took an unsteady step inside, allowing the door to slide shut behind him, his hands still bracing him using the frame. Prowl would have approached him to offer aid had Jazz's visor not darkened as he continued to gaze at Prowl. Prowl held himself back. Jazz looked...dangerous.

Jazz started towards Prowl with unsteady, weary steps. Despite his injuries he was crossing the room fairly fast, and Prowl backed up, hands raised some to show he had no weapon and meant no harm. Jazz backed him into the wall. Prowl feared that with all of Jazz's injuries and trauma he might be stuck in some kind of waking dream, reliving past events, mistaking Prowl for an enemy.

"Jazz, it's me. Prow-"

Jazz suddenly wrapped both arms around Prowl and pressed himself flush against Prowl, burying his face in the crook of Prowl's neck. Prowl stood motionless in shock. He had not expected this. Jazz released a loud shaky sigh through his vents and pressed his face further into Prowl's neck, almost nuzzling it. Prowl didn't know how to react. Jazz was seeking comfort from him and Prowl was unsure of how to give it. He raised a hand to each of Jazz's arms, attempting to gently pry him off, but Jazz would have none of it. He tightened his hold on Prowl a fraction, a small distressed sound escaped his vocalizer. The sound was sparkbreaking, and Prowl couldn't find it in himself to distress Jazz any further by trying to break free from the saboteur's grasp. Prowl shifted his hands to rest lightly on Jazz's shoulders in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture.

"Jazz, your injuries have not had nearly enough time to heal, you need to return to the Med Bay."

Jazz pressed in to Prowl more.

"Jazz, you need to recharge."

Jazz nodded some, his head resting fully on Prowl's shoulder.

"I can help you back to the Med -"

Jazz shook his head 'no'. Jazz didn't want to return to the Med Bay, that much Prowl was sure of. Prowl considered,

"Here, take my berth, I'll recharge in the chair -"

Jazz tighten his arm around Prowl's waist and shook his head 'no'. Prowl frowned, just where exactly did Jazz think Prowl should recharge? Oh.

Prowl sighed quietly, he was exhausted and didn't feel like fighting Jazz and if recharging with Prowl brought Jazz some comfort, so be it.

"Ok, Jazz, lets get some recharge."

Prowl gently began to lead Jazz to his berth. Jazz blindly moved with him, never once relinquishing his hold on Prowl. It took Prowl several breems to situate the both of them on his berth. It left him on his back, arms at his sides, his shoulder and doorwing pressed firmly against the wall (his doorwings were going to ache for cycles after this), Jazz had curled himself onto one side and was pressed rather…intimately against Prowl, his arms had shifted so they now hugged Prowl around his waist, Jazz's knee joint rested on Prowl's thigh, his head lay on a doorwing with his face pressed into Prowl's shoulder. His visor was already dark and Prowl could hear Jazz's strained systems already humming in recharge. Exhausted himself, Prowl offlined his optics, relaxed, and sank into blissful recharge.

--

Prowl was roused from recharge by the ghosting of fingers down one side of his face. Content to leave his optics off, he lay on his back, doorwings relaxed, taking note of an unfamiliar yet comfortably warm weight settled across his hips. A hand gently cupped one side of his face, thumb caressing across his cheek, at the same time fingers traced along one side of his chevron, playing along the edges, caressing up to its point then down again. Prowl shivered slightly from the sensations earning him a hum of approval from somewhere close above him. Prowl decided he liked that sound, would like to hear it again.

Wait...there shouldn't be any sounds in his quarters when he onlined! Optics powered up quickly and Prowl found himself looking up at Jazz who was straddling his hips.

A small smile playing about he saboteur's mouth, "Mornin' love."

Prowl tensed at the purring tone. He moved to sit up, intending to get out from under Jazz but Jazz stopped him, placing his hands on Prowl's shoulders and pinning him back down to the berth.

"Relax, Prowlie. Its been a rough couple a' cycles, so ease back. Relax."

Jazzs hands went from pinning Prowl down to lightly massaging his shoulders, his fingers massaging in small soothing circles.

Prowl frowned, "Jazz -"

"Prowl, I want to thank you." Jazz interrupted him, going very serious, "An' I really mean thank you for last night. Ya really helped me out...in ways I know you don't even understand yet."

Prowl felt embarrassment at the spark felt words, he looked away,

"You're...welcome, Jazz."

He really didn't know what else to say to that.

Jazz suddenly slid his body flush against Prowl's. Prowl tensed, optics going wide at the contact and he jerked his gaze back to Jazz just as the saboteur placed a hand on either side of his helm, effectively trapping Prowl and preventing him from turning his face away. Prowl grabbed ahold of Jazz's forearms, trying to pull him off as Jazz dipped his head and brushed his lips against Prowl's.

"Thank you."

Jazz murmured the words just loud enough to hear, then closed his mouth over Prowl's. Jazz moaned into the kiss. Prowl struggled, his hands gripping at Jazz's arms and hands, trying to pull him off. Jazz didn't budge. He caressed Prowl's mouth with his own, running his glossa enticingly over Prowl's lips then between them, seeking entry, but Prowl refused. Taking another approach, Jazz began to gently suck and nibble on Prowl's lips, pleased as the struggling slowly subsided into clinging and shivering.

Prowl couldn't help the shivers that ran through him at the pleasant sensations of Jazz nibbling, licking, and kissing his lips and he found his hands clinging to Jazz's upper arms. Nor could he stop the moan that welled up in his throat as he began to slowly kiss back. He tentatively parted his lips and Jazz didn't hesitate; his glossa exploring Prowl's mouth, sweeping, caressing, encouraging. Prowl had no idea what came over him as he slid his hands up Jazz's arms, slid his arms around his neck and pulled Jazz tight against him, kissing Jazz back with equal fervor. It just felt so good. And Jazz tasted so good. So warm.

So when Jazz suddenly stopped and started to pull away, Prowl couldn't stifle his mewl of protest. His processor slowed with pleasure he tried to follow Jazz as he pulled away, not wanting to break the contact, wanting to continue. But Jazz gently pressed him to lay back down on the berth, his hands caressing over his face, running his thumb over Prowls lips. Jazz couldn't help but smile as he gazed down at one very dazed looking Prowl.

"Sorry to cut this short, Prowlie, but Ratchet commed me an' said if I don't get back to Med Bay right now, he promises ta come find me and drag me back there himself. An' I'd rather not start somethin' I won't have the time ta finish."

Jazz dipped in for a quick kiss, "Get some rest, Prowlie, you'll need it" then he slipped easily from Prowls grasp and was gone, door sliding shut behind him.

Prowl lay there for several breems until reality broke through his pleasure induced haze. Prowl sat up, staring at his empty quarters replaying the events from this morning, he was mortified at his actions and total loss of control.

What would have happened if Ratchet hadn't called Jazz to the Med Bay? How far would it have gone? Did he really care? It had been enjoyable after all. No, no no! He was Second in Command! He couldn't go around having affairs...or an affair for that matter! He had job duties to attend to. Mechs to command. This was war, not a dating service. But it had been enjoyable. And he could still taste Jazz... No, he had a job to do, he couldn't go around getting distracted. He had to stay firm in his resolutions.

Prowl rested his head in his hands. His head hurt, that all too familiar dull ache emanating from his logic center warning him his conflicting emotions and cold hard logic weren't matching up. If he kept this up his logic center would glitch, lock up, and he'd go into emergency shut down. Then he'd be taken to Med Bay...no doubt to an unhappy Ratchet who would have to unlock him and bring him back online, a lengthy process that Prowl would just rather avoid.

--

Prowl was surprised later that same cycle when Ratchet showed up at his office, repair kit in hand, wanting to know what was damaged where. In truth Prowl had buried himself deep in his work and had forgotten about stopping at the Med Bay for repairs. It didn't take Ratchet long to finish patching up Prowl as a lot of the damage had been mended by his internal repair systems. Prowl had been inwardly nervous that Ratchet would bring up Jazz having left Med Bay in the dead of night to stumble to Prowl's door, but Ratchet never broached the subject.

It was three cycles before Jazz was allowed to leave the Med Bay. Which meant either, one - Jazz was more injured than he had appeared to be or, two - Jazz had seriously fragged Ratchet off by leaving Med Bay the way he did and that long, boring stay was Ratchet's form of punishment. If Prowl was honest with himself, he believed it was probably more of the latter than the former. In any case, Jazz was finally roaming free again.

That thought lurked in the back of Prowl's processor and he firmly ignored it. He had an overflow of work. Report after report from all areas and fields were rolling in after that attack on the city. And it fell on Prowl to sort things out. What he could take care of himself and what need to get passed on to other officers. What went to Optimus Prime, to Ironhide, to Jazz, to Smokescreen, to Red Alert. He had spent the past three cycles in his office sorting all this out and it didn't seem to have even made a dent in the stacks and stacks of data pads that now decorated his desk.

Prowl was hunched over a report, making yet more notes on a report when the door to his office slid open and familiar steps waltzed in. Prowl hesitated a moment before continuing on with his report. He didn't look up, couldn't. It would just bring to mind that morning three cycles ago and he couldn't think on it, not now.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. After a moment, Jazz walked over to his usual chair, sat down and started working on reports. And just like that, routine was restored. Prowl relaxed again…as much as Prowl allowed himself to. And for the next decacycle, Prowl and Jazz worked tirelessly on report after report till they gradually got Prowl's office to an orderly state again.

Jazz was frowning as he shifted through several reports,

"Hey Prowl, where's the warehouse inventory reports?"

Prowl didn't look up, "In the cabinet,"

Prowl tilted his head in the direction of the muti drawered cabinet behind him, "Second drawer, I believe."

Jazz stood to retreive it, "Thanks, Prowl!"

Prowl didn't even comment back as he focused his attention on the report in his hands. He vaguely heard Jazz behind him rifling through the drawer and closing it. Didn't pay any attention until the file was tossed over his head and landed with a loud SLAM! on his desk. Prowl looked up at the file...what -

Hands suddenly caressed down the panels of his doorwings. Any thoughts Prowl had had in his processor at the time became scrambled and meaningless as the hands stroked down to the base of his doorwings, trailed teasingly down the joints, then cupped the bottom of each doorwing and caressed outward. At the same time, light kisses were placed at the tip of one doorwing and trailed slowly down. Prowl's intakes hitched as splayed hands caressing over the broad side of his wings reaching the joints again and the kisses on his doorwings continued up to his shoulder then over to his neck.

Prowl shuddered as Jazz ran his hands from his doorwings up over his shoulders, caressed down his chest plate some and pulled him to lean back more in his chair. Jazz kissed up his neck to his jaw, stopped, pulled away, then reached up with one hand to tilt Prowl's head up and back. Jazz leaned down to kiss him, pausing when his lips were a breath away from Prowl's. Jazz waited a moment. A moment to give Prowl a chance to protest, so say 'no', to push him away.

Prowl remained silent and still, and that was good enough for Jazz as he closed the distance and claimed Prowl's mouth. He met no resistance this time, Prowl opened to him willingly, kissing him back. One of Jazz's hands cupped Prowl's face, thumb caressing, the other traced finger tips lightly over the top of a doorwing. Prowl shuddered again. He reached a tentative hand up to ever so lightly rest fingertips against Jazz's black helm. Jazz moaned and kissed Prowl harder in encouragement, wanting Prowl to touch him more.

Prowl gently caressed his hand upward and met the base of an audio horn, his fingers traced lightly around the horn then up and over its angles and planes. Jazz clutched Prowl as a shudder tore through the sabotuer, intakes hitching in response to Prowl's light caresses. Jazz didn't care anymore: if Prowl kept up with those light touches, that sweet torment, he would drag the tactician back to his quarters whether Prowl was willing or not.

A loud knocking on Prowl's office door startled the two apart.

"Prowl? Are you in there?"

That was Optimus Prime!

Prowl scrambled, getting up he shoved his chair back into Jazz earning an "AH!" of surprise as the chair hit him. Prowl rushed to unlock the door and allow his commander entry but never made it. In his flurried attempt to get to the door he managed to slam his thigh into the corner of the desk and knock down at least a dozen data pads that had been sitting neatly on the edge. Cursing under his breath, Prowl pressed a hand to his thigh before dropping to one knee and started scooping up the data pads as quickly as possible. Jazz, on the other hand, lightly sauntered around the other side of the desk, walked calmly to the door and unlocked it.

"Prowl, I… Oh, hello, Jazz. Where's Prowl?"

Jazz motioned for Optimus to come in, "Right inside, Sir."

Optimus Prime walked in, stopped, and looked down at Prowl who was just finishing picking up the fallen data pads.

Prowl stood and set them on his desk, "Sorry about locking the door, Sir, its just that I -"

Optimus Prime held up a hand to silence him, "Don't worry about it Prowl, its perfectly fine. I can understand you not wanting to be disturbed. I know the workload that's been placed on you. I assume that's why Jazz is here? To help you?"

Prowl nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"You two must be fairly busy."

"Oh, we've been _very _busy, Optimus. Ain't that right, Prowl?"

Jazz locked his gaze with Prowl's and a big grin split across his face. Prowl could feel that familiar ache settling in his head. What had he been thinking!? This was his office! He'd been kissing Jazz, encouraging him! On duty!! What was next? Interfacing while they should be doing reports!? Some little part of his processor felt the need to speak up at this point…'Yes, that would be enjoyable'. No!! This was his office! He couldn't be doing things like that! The ache increased, it hurt. Prowl started to feel...dizzy. The other two mechs were completely oblivious to Prowl's situation as they talked to one another.

"What have you two been working on?"

"Warehouse inventory."

"Ah, it's a good thing you two are working together on that one, that's one long, detailed report. Have you two gotten far?"

"Oh…" Jazz chuckled, looking over at Prowl again as he grinned like mad, "We got farther than I thought we would."

Jazz was throughly enjoying himself. Optimus had picked up the warehouse report and was looking through it, Jazz was just grinning at Prowl.

Prowl was still battling with himself. He needed to get a handle on his self control when he was around Jazz. Of course, how does one do that when a saboteur comes out of nowhere and gropes your doorwings? You just sit back and enjoy it… No! Not while it was going on in HIS office. Maybe if they took it to his quarters then… No, no! Not there either! He had told Jazz he did not want the mech's advances. Period! So why was it every time Jazz laid hands on him, Prowl couldn't do anything but respond! Frag it, he was an officer and he needed to behave like one! But it always felt so good when Jazz touched him... No! He needed to…he…he…

Prowl felt it happen. His logic center came to a grinding halt, and locked. Then the emergency shutdowns began. Prowl wavered. He could see the smile on Jazz's face lessen.

"Prowl?"

His equilibrium and balance shut down and Prowl stumbled back into the wall.

Jazz's smile vanished, "Prowl? Prowl, what's wrong?"

Jazz looked worried and even though he was in the same room, sounded distant to Prowl. Optimus Prime looked up from the report and looked at Prowl. All Prowl's motor functions shut down and Prowl slid down the wall to collapse on the floor.

"Prowl!" Jazz raced around the desk , kneeling down he grasped Prowl by his shoulders and shook him, "Prowl! Say something! Prowl!!"

Prowl couldn't speak, his vocalizer had already shut down, and now his audios, followed by his optics. _'Why now, why in front of Jazz…'_ was the last thought that crossed his mind before the yawning void of unconsciousness engulfed him.

--

Jazz was nearly beside himself. He could feel panic starting to seize him. Prowl had been standing there looking a little dazed, then suddenly he stumbled into the wall and collapsed to the floor. Jazz had trying shaking him to get a response but Prowl was clearly unconscious.

"Optimus!! He's -"

"Calm down, Jazz, I've contacted Ratchet. He'll be in here in a moment."

Jazz looked up at Optimus. He didn't seem nearly as upset or worried as he should be since his Second in Command just suddenly offlined for no reason. Jazz was about to question him when Ratchet strode in.

Ratchet took one look at Prowl and heaved a sigh, "Alright. Jazz, help me get him to Med Bay." Ratchet bent and lifted one side of Prowl and Jazz lifted the other.

Optimus got out of their way as they headed out the door, "Keep me informed, Ratchet."

Ratchet nodded, "Of course."

Ratchet and Jazz made quick work of getting Prowl to the Med Bay. Ratchet directing Jazz where he wanted Prowl. Once Prowl was situated on the Med berth, Ratchet went to get equipment he'd need, leaving Jazz alone with Prowl.

Jazz stood by the berth, gazing down at Prowl. What the frag just happened? Everything had been going fine! What was wrong with Prowl? Jazz reached out and caressed his fingers down Prowl's face, up to his chevron, gently rubbing a thumb along the edge, then down again, caressing his fingers across Prowls lips-

WHACK!

A wrench came out of no where and smashed into Jazz's hand. Jazz hissed in pain and jerked his hand back, rubbing the newly dented area that stung. Ratchet walked around to the other side of the berth, wrench in hand.

Jazz glared, "Frag it all, Ratchet! That hurt!"

Ratchet gestured to Prowl laying on the berth, "Then don't go molesting my patients...unconscious or otherwise."

Jazz kept rubbing his hand, "I wasn't molesting him!"

Ratchet shook his head as he looked down at Prowl, "Oh Prowl, you really glitched big time, didn't you?"

Jazz stared at Ratchet, shocked, "Prowl has a glitch? That wasn't in his file!"

Ratchet shot Jazz a glare, "Have you been hacking into the personal files again!?"

"Well, I...no..yes...maybe...it was awhile ago-"

"So help me Jazz, if you've been hacking into medical files, I'll-"

"Obviously I haven't or I would have known about this!"

Ratchet grumbled as he went about hooking Prowl up to various monitors, "I don't suppose YOU had anything to do with Prowl's sudden glitching."

"I... I was just joking with him."

Ratchet began running scans. There was a long pause, neither spoke.

"I didn't mean to hurt him."

Jazz spoke with such somberness, Ratchet looked at him. He looked miserable, no trace of a grin anywhere on the normally cheerful mech. Ratchet was a bit surprised, Jazz was truly upset about this.

"You didn't hurt him, Jazz. He'll be fine."

Jazz didn't look all that convinced, "How did this happen, Ratch? What caused it?"

Ratchet played with various screens of information, "You know, I really shouldn't tell you."

"Come on, Ratchet, I'm his friend. At the very least, I'm Third in Command and if there are things that can lock him up and bring him crashing down like this, I need to know what they are."

"Eh, I guess you have a point." Ratchet nodded toward a berth off to his side as he made notes on some of the readings he was getting back. "Have a seat, Jazz, this will take some explaining."

----authors notes-----

And so, Jazz learns about Prowls glitchy logic center! You can take a wild guess at how happy Prowl will be that Jazz now knows.

As always, Reading and reviewing is very much enjoyed!


	5. First Cut Is The Deepest

Once again Thank you to everyone who has left reviews/comments!! Thank you Thank you!! You have no idea how happy it makes me! I hope you guys are enjoying the story!

Edited by the wonderful **Taralynden**

-------

Warning!! Contains some slash! Don't like slash or yaoi, please don't read. You've been warned! Thanks!

-----

And Yet More Jazz/Prowl!

Ok, "Vorn" = about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" = about 6 months, "Decacycle" = about 1 week, "Cycle" = about 1 day, "Orn" = about an hour, "Breem" = about a minute

"click" = bout a mile

------

Chapter 5

Prowl slowly onlined feeling languid and unfocused. He glanced idly at his surroundings. These were definitely not his quarters. Where was he? Looking beside him, he saw a few wires leading from him to monitors by the berth. Med Bay equipment. What was he doing in Med Bay? His first thought was battle injuries but he didn't hurt and a quick glance at himself showed no damage. Prowl began to search his memory files for what could have landed him here.

He could hear voices outside his door, they were very faint and he couldn't make out much of the conversation. He tried to focus a little more. One voice belonged to Ratchet, that made sense. The other was….Ironhide? What was he doing in the Med Bay?

Prowl leisurely continued to search through his memory files though why he was searching was starting to slip away from him. He remained listless, listening to the sound and tones of the voices outside his door, not really paying attention to the words….until one stood out: Jazz.

That brought some memory back. The two of them…in his office…doing things that were completely inappropriate. Prowl recalled Prime coming to his office, it had been locked, and Jazz had started in with some lewd innuendos then…..oh. Slag. He had glitched. Glitched enough to lock up his logic center and land him in the Med Bay. And he had been doing so well. Thankfully it had been in his office, away from prying optics.

Prowl wanted to frown at the fact he wasn't getting upset or tense over what had happened but he just couldn't work himself up to it. Whatever Ratchet had given him or had him on was one pit of a relaxant. In fact, he hadn't felt this relaxed since he had woken up that one morning with Jazz straddling him. Prowl mentally groaned, why did he have to bring up that particular memory?

Jazz. Jazz knew he had a glitch now. How would he react to that? Jazz had been an officer in the Autobots for sometime now, a lot longer than Prowl, and a lot of officers didn't like glitches to obtain any kind of superior rank. Did Jazz think like that? Maybe if he did he'd leave Prowl alone now. The thought should have appealed to Prowl, but it only left him fighting off a feeling of disappointment.

Primus, how did he get here? He thought he had his emotions under control, especially after the last time his emotions caused him to glitch and crash…hard. That glitch had been painful on so many levels. That was so long ago, while he was in the midst of his apprenticeship with his mentor Breakdown. Breakdown was one of several Tacticians that served under Sentinel Prime. The Autobot army had been larger and more centralized back then.

Prowl had foolishly allowed himself to become interested in a certain mech. Though the interest was foolish, Prowl was not stupid; he knew his glitch was usually triggered by strong emotions. Therefore, Prowl never approached him. He made do with subtle glances and lots of distance, this way Prowl could watch him and not become emotionally involved. Prowl interfered in the mech's life as little as possible and when he had to interact with the mech he never allowing any emotion to show through. Prowl was content to just admire him from a safe distance. Nothing too intimate or personal.

In fact the most personal Prowl ever got with the mech was having a conversation with him one night over a cube of high grade. It had been late and Prowl thought for sure no one would be in the rec area. He didn't realize until he had a cube in hand that someone else was there. Upon seeing who it was, Prowl intended to make a hasty exit but was nearly too shocked to move when his secret interest beckoned him over, inviting the young apprentice to sit and keep company with him. And even though Prowl knew that two decacycles from then the mech wouldn't even remember his name or ever know he had captured the interest of the young tactician, Prowl was still flattered to have been asked to join him and he relished the time they spent in enjoyable conversation.

In the end, none of it spared Prowl when the mech went to battle….and was killed. The medics on the battle field were unable to restore life to his mangled frame, though they tried. Those careful plans, the safe distance he kept himself at, his perceived emotional detachment, all were ripped painfully away and Prowl felt himself choke on raw emotions. Emotions he didn't believe he had the right to feel. He had been careful…so careful, kept distant, hadn't even allowed himself to fantasize about the mech, it shouldn't hurt this much, and yet his spark wrenched painfully.

Prowl actually felt the loss, even though the mech hadn't been his to lose. He desperately tired to look at it all logically. War was harsh and unforgiving, death was inevitable for many. War takes life, it does not give it. Prowl reminded himself over and over that he had had no relationship with the mech.…..so why did it still hurt? As hard as Prowl tried he could find no comfort or solace in logic and reason. There was no peace, his logic center warred with his emotions. His head hurt constantly, quickly leading to a major glitch and emergency shutdown that left him offline and prone on the control room floor with a very worried mentor frantically calling for medical assistance.

When Prowl came back online a lengthy two and a half decacycles later, he was met with a very unhappy medic. This medic's particular unhappiness had nothing to do with Prowls overall health. He didn't like that a glitch was climbing the ranks and he wasn't shy about letting Prowl know exactly how he felt about it. As Prowl left to seek the quiet comfort of his own quarters, the medic informed him he would be taking this matter to Sentinel Prime.

For three cycles after that, Prowl carried a sense of dread with him. At some point, Sentinel Prime was going to hear about his glitch from the medic and when he did Prowl would most likely be stripped of his apprenticeship, demoted, and given some menial job they usually give glitches to keep them busy, quiet, and out of the way. Prowl didn't want that, he was good at what he did, he worked hard, it shouldn't all be taken away from him because of a glitch.

Prowl was finally called to Sentinel Prime's office. He was asked to sit outside in the waiting area, Prowl did as he was told. A few breems later the medic who had attended to him less than a decacycle ago stepped out and walked past Prowl without so much as a glance or any acknowledgement. Prowl only hoped that was not a taste of things to come. Sentinel Prime called Prowl in.

He looked at Prowl and nodded to a vacant chair, "Have a seat, Prowl."

Prowl sat doorwings held at shoulder level, back straight, face carefully blank.

Sentinel looked over a file and from what Prowl could see it was his file.

After a few moments, Sentinel addressed him, "You…are…..impressive."

Sentinel looked at Prowl, Prowl kept his face neutral, betraying nothing, remaining silent. Sentinel set back in his chair, placing the file down on the desk, "Tell me, Prowl, before this, when was the last time you glitched?"

Prowl didn't hesitate, "Eighty four vorn, one stellarcycle, six decacycles, sixteen cycles, 15 orns -"

Sentinel held a hand up to halt Prowl, a small grin on his face, "I do not need the time frame calculated down to the astrosecond, eighty four vorn will do."

Prowl nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"What causes the glitch?"

"My overdeveloped logic center coupled with my battle computer -"

"Forgive me, Prowl, what I mean is, what triggers your glitch?"

"My glitch can be triggered by sudden highly illogical situations and/or intense conflicting emotions."

"Mmhmm." Sentinel seemed to contemplate on Prowl for a moment, "And what caused this latest glitch?"

Prowl opened his mouth then hesitated. It was such a personal matter. Talking about it would bring everything back up to the surface and just when he had been successful at blocking those emotions.

"Prowl." Prowl returned his gaze to Sentinel, not even aware his gaze had wondered, "Prowl, tell me what happened."

Prowl opened his mouth again but couldn't get the words out. He gave a slight shake of his head, optics looking anywhere but at Sentinel. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to feel those emotions again, they were still too raw, too overwhelming.

"Prowl." Prowl reluctantly brought his gaze up to Sentinel's, "Tell me what happened."

The tone said it all, it was not a question or a request, it was a command. Prowl sighed, a hand coming up to rub a part of his helm, his processor already starting to ache. He sagged back into the chair some and started from the beginning.

A little over an orn later, Prowl finally wrapped up his story. Of all the emotions he was feeling, gratitude was among the few positive ones. He was grateful Sentinel had listened as he had stuttered and stumbled through it all. Prowl didn't feel much better, he still hurt. But no matter the outcome of this, Prowl would thank Sentinel for his kindness and patience. Not many were willing to listen to him and he wasn't always willing to talk.

Sentinel studied Prowl for a few breems. Then leaned forward on his desk looking Prowl in the optics,

"I can see why such emotions could trigger your glitch. I know mechs, who have no glitch at all, that can't handle their emotions half as well as you seem to. Such experiences can be difficult. Prowl, I want you to know you can come talk to me about this, about work, work load, co-workers, whatever is bothering you. Whatever you tell me stays between us, you understand?"

Prowl look at Sentinel almost incredulously, "I…yes. Yes, Sir".

Sentinel gave Prowl a smile, "Alright. I believe I have kept you from your duties long enough."

"I…" Prowl wasn't sure what to make of this, "Sir?"

"Yes, Prowl?"

"I have a glitch."

"Yes."

Prowl shifted in his seat slightly, this meeting hadn't gone as he had expected it to and against his better judgement Prowl pressed the issue.

"Sir, from what I understand, no mech with a glitch climbs rank. I have already surpassed many. Why aren't you reassigning me?"

Sentinel Prime's smile deepened, "You've a brilliant mind, Prowl. I'm not going to let your glitch stop you from reaching your potential. You're a very important member of the Autobots, you just don't know it yet. And besides, no one needs to know. I think the matter of your glitch is something that should be kept between us."

Prowl frowned, "You…expect me to lie?"

"No, I expect you to not bring it up with anyone but me."

"But the medic-"

"Will tell no one. You've nothing to worry about, Prowl."

Prowl looked at Sentinel, a touch confused by and suspicious of the unexpected kindness, but decided to let the issue rest now, "Thank you, Sir".

Prowls meetings with Sentinel became regular after that. Sentinel questioned Prowl on just about every aspect of his life, seemingly wanting to know every little detail. The Prime quickly became a mentor for Prowl and furthermore became a good friend he could confide in. Prowl found he could speak his mind to Sentinel about any subject; work, mathematics, literature, philosophy, music....music...Jazz.

Prowl drew his thoughts back to the present. He wondered what Jazz was doing? No, he shouldn't care. But he did. Prowl wanted to lift his arm so he rub his helm so he could soothe the ache, even though there was no ache at the moment, Prowl was sure once he was unhooked from whatever Ratchet had him on, the ache would come back. It was bound to as long as Jazz was around. As long as Jazz was around....as long as...Jazz was around...hmmmmmmm....

Raised voices from somewhere outside his door caught his attention again.

"Quiet down, Ironhide! Your going to jerk him out of recharge. What he needs now is rest."

"What he NEEDS is fer Jazz ta leave 'im the slag alone!"

"You don't know that Jazz caused this."

"He was in tha' room with Prowl when he glitched."

"You can't blame Jazz for everything, Ironhide."

"The Pit I can't!"

"Besides, you don't know the nature of their relationship-"

"They don't HAVE a relationship! There is no relationship! There's Jazz harassin' Prowl, that's all!"

Ratchet responded with nothing but an exasperated sigh. Both lapsed into silence for a breem.

"Prime shoulda' put a stop ta this a long time ago. Now look what's happened." Ironhide started again.

"Prowl wasn't complaining."

"Course not! Prowl's too polite a' mech ta go complainin' ta Prime."

Silence again.

"Fraggin' Jazz…"

"Ironhide, I swear…"

"Oh come on, Ratchet! Ya know Prowl's nothin' but a toy to 'im! A shiny novelty fer Jazz to amuse himself with. He doesn't give a frag what Prowl thinks or feels or goes through, as long as Jazz gets what Jazz wants."

"He's not like that."

"Please, Jazz is the biggest berth jumper on this base. Probably sees Prowl as little more than a new conquest. Come on, Ratchet, you hear the same things I do. Jazz is a user. He uses a mech till he's bored then moves on to another. He even berths his subordinates, Special Ops trainees from what I've heard. Not to mention Jazz's little side affair with Mirage."

"Mirage!?"

"I have ta' cover fer Red every now n' then. An' I've seen Mirage sneakin' outta Jazz's quarters on more than one occasion. An' I'm talkin' within the past few decacycles."

There was a stunned silence.

"Are you serious-"

The reply was cut short by the sound of movement.

"How's he doing, Ratchet?"

There was no mistaking that voice: Prime.

"He'll be fine, Optimus. I'm going to suggest a good 2 or 3 cycles away from any heavy or stressing work. Prowl just needs to take it easy."

"Ironhide, I want you to make sure Prowl follows Ratchet's directions. Don't let Prowl overwork himself."

"I'll watch over 'im, Prime."

"Excellent."

"Well come on, Optimus, Ironhide, lets wake Prowl up and get him to his own quarters, he'll recharge better there."

The door to his room suddenly opened to reveal the three mechs. Prowl turned to look at them as they filed in, Ratchet seemed slightly surprised to see him online already. Ratchet came up to him and checked the monitors,

"How you feeling, Prowl?"

Prowl looked at Ratchet in a groggy manner before nodding some and slurring, "Mmm-good."

Prime cast Ratchet a worried look but Ratchet shook his head and spoke softly, "It's the relaxant I have him on. It'll wear off after a few orns and some more recharge."

Prime nodded and walked up to Prowl, "I'm glad to see you're ok, Prowl. Ratchet's going to release you in a bit and Ironhide's going to help you back to your quarters, ok?"

Prowl nodded. Prime's optics shone, one could almost tell he was smiling behind the mask.

"Alright then, I'll come by and check on you later. Get some rest."

Optimus patted Prowl's shoulder then left Ratchet and Ironhide to their tasks. Ironhide leaned against the wall while Ratchet ran a few scans to make sure Prowl was ok to leave the Med Bay and unhooked him from the relaxant and monitors.

"Ok, Prowl. Your free to go. Ironhide's going to help you back to your quarters."

Ratchet then began packing away the equipment.

Prowl shook his head, "No, I'll be fine. My quarters aren't that far from here."

He swung his legs over the side of the berth getting ready to stand.

Ratchet looked startled, "Prowl, no! What I had you on was really strong, it's-"

"I'll be fine, Ratchet."

Prowl moved to stand, only when he put weight on his legs they buckled and he would have ended up a heap on the floor had Ironhide not dashed forward and caught him.

Ironhide looked down at Prowl, "You ok?"

Prowl nodded and then looked over at Ratchet, "What kind of relaxant did you use on me?"

"I told you, a strong one. Now just do as I say and let Ironhide help you."

"Alright."

Ratchet gave Prowl a scowl before shaking his head as he went back to putting tools and connector wires away in drawers. Ironhide just grinned and shook his head as he looped an arm around Prowl's waist to steady him and helped him out of Med Bay. They walked down the hall slowly and once they rounded a corner Prowl asked the question that had been eating at him,

"Where's Jazz?"

Ironhide gave him a small smile, "Don' ya worry about him. Jazz is off doin' mission trainin' with his trainees. He won't be back fer another cycle or two. So you'll be able ta' git some rest without him botherin' ya."

"I see, thank you."

They reached Prowl quarters and Ironhide helped him inside and to his berth. Prowl felt weak and exhausted.

Ironhide stood back and frowned at him, "Ya know, Prowl, Jazz can be one pit of a slag headed jerk."

Prowl looked up at Ironhide in surprise as Ironhide went on,

"He uses mechs for his own amusement, till he gits bored of 'em anyway. An' he's got his optics set on you. I don't want ta' see ya git hurt, Prowl. So, I want ya ta' know that if he ever harasses ya too much or if he steps too far outta line, you can gimme a call and I'll straighten him out fer ya."

Prowl nodded politely, "Thank you, Ironhide. I'll remember that."

Ironhide grinned at Prowl then headed toward the door, "Right. You git some rest, Prowl."

Prowl watched as Ironhide left, shutting and locking Prowl's door behind him. Prowl leaned back on his berth, making himself comfortable, as he stared at the ceiling. His mind was made up. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

Jazz could probably count on his hands the number of times he had felt anxious about coming back to base.

This was one of those times.

He wanted to talk to Prowl…bad. He owed Prowl a huge apology for his behavior that day and for being the contributing factor to him glitching. He'd have to find some way to make it up to Prowl. As they neared the base Jazz began to go through the backlog of messages he had waiting. He scrolled through them, looking for one in particular. And there is was, a quick message from Ratchet. Apparently Prowl was fine, awake, and on light duty. Good, he wanted to talk to Prowl as soon as he got back to base.

However, upon returning from the mission training, Prime felt the need to be involved in the debriefing process…personally…..one trainee at a time. Jazz could barely hold still through the orns of debriefing. Being the leader of the whole unit, he had to sit through all of them. The entire process took up most the cycle, making it late evening by the time Prime dismissed Jazz. Jazz immediately headed for their office hoping Prowl might still be working.

When Jazz reached their office, he reached out cycling open the door and was surprised to come nearly face to face with Prowl who was holding a box.

He gave Prowl a friendly smile, "Prowl! I'm glad ta see ya up and around again."

At Prowl's blank expression, Jazz immediately sobered, "Prowl, I owe ya an apology. I didn't mean to cause ya ta' glitch. I -"

Prowl nodded, "Apology accepted."

Then Prowl held out the box he had been holding, indicating for Jazz to take it. Jazz took the box and looked at its contents. Inside were some data pads of his and a few other things Jazz had casually left around their office. Jazz looked back at Prowl, confusion touching his features.

Prowl explained, "I think it would be more beneficial for both of us if you returned to your own office."

Jazz shook his head, "No. Prowl, please, I know your mad at me but-"

"I am not angry with you, Jazz." The entire time Prowl spoke his face, voice, and optics lacked emotion, he seemed closed off, "It is not logical for two senior officers to be sharing a desk and an office when we do not lack space or supplies."

Jazz saw Prowl's hand reaching for the 'close' button on the doors keypad.

"Prowl, wait! I'm sorry! Please, just let me come in and talk to you."

Jazz made a move to step into the office only to have Prowl press his hand against the box he had given Jazz, halting his movement.

"Return to your office, Jazz."

"Prowl-"

Before Jazz could get another word out, Prowl pushed the door's close button, sliding it shut in Jazz's face. Stunned, Jazz continued to stare at the door; he even heard Prowl lock it.

Jazz took several steps back, optics still on the closed door, he stood there trying to figure out what had gone wrong. It was not like Prowl had never been mad at Jazz before, but an irritated or angry Prowl had never shut a door in his face. Consumed by his thoughts, Jazz didn't hear anyone approach him.

"Its about time he wised up and kicked yer aft out of his office."

The voice, the tone, sliced through Jazz's thoughts and he spun around to glare up at the weapons specialist, Ironhide simply glared back.

He sneered at Jazz, "Ya had it comin'."

Optics narrowed behind the visor, "An' I suppose ya had nothin' ta do with Prowl's sudden 'wising up'."

Ironhide leaned in toward Jazz, "I hope I had everything ta' do with it."

Ironhide straightened and brushed past Jazz to Prowl's office door, pressing the call button.

"Yes?"

"Prowl, Ironhide here, mind if I come in?"

"Not at all."

Jazz watched in near horror as the door cycled open and Prowl stepped back allowing Ironhide to enter.

Jazz tried again, "Prowl-"

Prowl looked at him, his expression cold, blank, detached, "Return to your office, Jazz."

Then Prowl turned away, door cycling shut and locking.

Jazz couldn't help but stare for a few more moments before turning and walking down the corridor, now clutching the box to his chest. After a few steps he stopped and looked back at Prowl's door. He debated going back but decided against it. Prowl had to be mad. Maybe he needed more time to cool off. Jazz continued on to his office. Once inside, he locked the door and leaned against it. He looked over his office. It looked the same as it always had but it didn't feel right.

Jazz walked to his desk and carefully unloaded the contents of the box, tossing the empty box on a spare chair before he walked around his desk and sat down. He'd had this office for vorns and yet now it held no comfort or familiarity. It might as well have been a stranger's office. He leaned his elbows on the desk, resting his head in his hands. Jazz looked at the objects he had removed from the box and set on his desk, he frowned, they had looked better in Prowl's office.

Jazz heaved a sigh as he slid his hands over his helm and let his forehead come to rest on the desk. It felt empty in here.

He wanted Prowl.

---Authors notes---

Poor Jazz!

Jazz and Ironhide's grudge goes WAY back. These two get along for Optimus, meetings, and battles, outside of that...they just try to stay out of one anothers way.

And just to clarify, Sentinel was not buddy buddy with Prowl to begin with because he's such a great guy, Sentinel acknowledged that Prowls brilliant strategies could sway the outcome of a battle and possibly more. And if he let Prowl get tossed onto the sidelines because of his glitch, Sentinel feared a certain Decepticon leader (who knows all about Prowl) would get his hands on Prowl and use him against the Autobots. Sentinels objective was to keep Prowl close and happy, that way no enemies could tempt Prowl to leave the Autobots. Sentinel and Prowls real friendship came later. Which is also why Prowl took Sentinels death fairly hard.

Reading and reviewing always welcomed!


	6. Smokescreened

Thanks everyone for the wonderful reviews! I always greatly appreciate it! :)

Edited once by Cave_cat  
Re-edited by the wonderful** Taralynden**

-----

"Vorn" = about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" = about 6 months, "Decacycle" = about 1 week, "Cycle" = about 1 day, "Orn" = about an hour, "Breem" = about a minute

"click" = bout a mile

------

Chapter 6

He walked into Prowl's office, like he had so many times before.

Prowl stood in front of his data pad case, hand out stretched with a data file in it, probably re-organizing them again. Prowl turned looking over his shoulder to see who had entered his office giving a small smile when he saw who it was,

"Hello, Ironhide."

He gave a smile of his own as he walked to where Prowl stood,

"Evenin' Prowl."

Prowl turned to him keeping the data file in hand, "I'm glad you stopped by. I need you to finalize this list of weapon parts and ammunition."

Prowl looked up at him, "I realize the run isn't for another few cycles yet but it would help get some of these data files off my desk."

He took the data file from Prowl, "Sure, Prowl. I'll have it done, signed, an' on yer desk first thing tomorrow."

A genuine smile lit up Prowl's face, "Thank you, Ironhide. I can always rely on you."

He wasn't sure what came over him, it had to be that smile on Prowl's face or maybe it was the tone of his voice that compelled him. Compelled him to reach a hand out, cup the back of Prowl's neck and draw Prowl to him. Compelled him to lean down and ever so gently kiss him.

Time stopped and for a moment he feared he had made a mistake…a huge mistake. But Prowl began to slowly, hesitantly kiss back. Pulling Prowl closer and moving slowly he coaxed Prowl into a deeper kiss. Almost blindly he set the data file in his hand on a nearby shelf. He wanted his hands free so he could finally touch Prowl, explore him.

Not breaking the kiss he maneuvered Prowl back. Prowl's hands clutched at his shoulders and Prowl gave a soft whine when his back pressed against the wall, doorwings splayed. Fingers stroked, danced, and glided along the seams and planes of Prowl's frame. Feeling heat build beneath his hands as he pinned Prowl against the wall. The smaller black and white body squirmed and shifted under his wandering touch.

He ran his hands over the white chest plate then around Prowl's sides, both hands coming to rest on those splayed sensory panels. Thrilled he could finally indulge in touching them without them flickering out of reach. A small moan escaping the throat of their owner at the contact.

Those doorwings gleamed beneath his hands. Catching his optics, enticing him, begging him to stroke the sweet warm metal there by evoking an erotic reaction, a tantalizing treat for his optics alone. He couldn't resist.

Grey hands moved over those sensitive panels in smooth firm strokes. Prowl broke the kiss as his head fell back against the wall and he arched his body, a long low throaty moan accompanying his movements. Beautiful.

White hands began to explore his body in return. It felt so good. He groaned and pressed into the caresses. With Prowl's head resting against the wall it left his neck perfectly exposed. He attacked, placing hungry open mouthed kisses all along Prowl's throat. His systems revved. Circuits tingled and sung in pleasure.

Prowl panted breathlessly, "Ironhide…ohhhh."

He pressed against Prowl harder, his hands touching and stroking any part of Prowl he could reach. White hands stroked up his back, over his shoulders, caressed his helm, the black and white body moved against his as Prowl gave a whine,

"Ironhide…please…please….."

Ironhide jerked out of recharge, sitting straight up in his berth. He panted, it felt like all his systems were running on high, his entire frame felt hot and sensitive. He took deep breaths of air to try and cool his revving systems and heated plating. He shuttered his optics willing the dream away so he could calm down and get a hold of himself again. He ran a hand over his face before turning around to lean against the wall.

It took a few breems but his systems finally calmed and his body cooled. With his arousal now starved off, he found himself once again starting at the ceiling of his quarters. The dream had been haunting him for a few decacycles now. He knew he should to do something about it. Make some move.

But words and actions often failed him when he was face to face with Prowl. Dreams were one thing, reality was another. And with Prowl having to deal with Jazz, or more to the point avoiding Jazz at every turn, he couldn't help but feel now wasn't the best time to approach Prowl. Thanks to Jazz's outlandish behavior Prowl was probably sour toward the idea of relationships in general.

Heaving a sigh he hauled himself off his berth and out of his quarters to the rec area. It was way too early for him to be up but he needed a drink bad. He didn't even bother to look around the rec room, it was far to early for a shift change and hardly anyone would be up at this orn. He poured himself a good amount of high grade taking a large swallow before he turned to the room.

A rather familiar frame lounged in a chair at a table. Doorwings swung low as the mech tilted his head back and breathed out grey wisps of smoke. Ironhide frowned and walked over to him. The blue and maroon mech had his feet crossed and propped up on another chair and a nearly empty cube of high grade sat on the table next to him.

As Ironhide stood on the other side of the table frowning down at the mech, Smokescreen simply tilted his head enough to look up at Ironhide's stern face. In a gesture of kindness and comradeship, Smokescreen reached out offering Ironhide the lit rolled substance.

Ironhide's frown deepened, "Yer not suppose ta have that stuff on the base, Smokescreen. It's against the rules."

Smokescreen smirked and dropped his arm to the table, "What're you going to do about it, Ironhide? Gonna go run tell Prowl?"

Ironhide gave a low grumble as he sat down watching as Smokescreen lifted the lit roll to his lips and inhaled deeply. Ironhide just shook his head,

"I don' see the point in it. All its gonna to do is clog yer filters. Then yer gonna have ta go ta Ratchet, he'll know what it's from and he'll report ya."

Smokescreen breathed out more of the wispy grey smoke, "Yeah but its soo relaxing. Besides Ratchet isn't going to report me. He'll probably just ask for some."

Ironhide sighed looking down at the cube of high grade in his hands. Smokescreen watched him for a moment, "So what's your problem?"

He looked up, "What makes ya think 'ah have a problem?"

"You're here, alone, gulping down high grade at this time of night….early morning, whatever. To me that points to a problem."

"Yer doin' the same slaggin' thing! What's YER problem?"

"I don't have a problem. You have a problem. I came here to relax and enjoy myself." Smokescreen lifted the roll to his mouth again, "Thanks for intruding on that by the way."

Smokescreen then lifted his cube of high grade and took a sip, giving Ironhide a long look, "So, go on, tell me what your problem is."

Ironhide shifted in his seat, "I…I don't know. It's not somethin' I need every mech knowin' about."

Smokescreen gave him a bland look, "Yes, Ironhide, I totally understand. I can't keep my mouth shut about anything. After all, that's how I got this job, by telling every bots secrets. That's what all Psychologists do. I just can't wait to drag this latest bit of personal information from you so I can go post it somewhere."

Ironhide sat back in his seat, "Alright, alright. No need to git all sarcastic."

They lapsed into silence for a breem as Ironhide stared at the table.

Smokescreen set down his cube of high grade, prompting Ironhide, "Well…"

Ironhide shifted in his seat again, "Its nothin'. Just…..dreams."

"Dreams?"

"…yeah."

Smokescreen sat for a moment watching as Ironhide stared into his cube of high grade, "Dreams about…?"

Ironhide shifted in his seat again continuing to stare down into his cube of high grade as he shook his head and gave a shrug.

Smokescreen raised the roll to his mouth again, "Dreams about Prowl?"

Ironhide's head snapped up to look at Smokescreen in surprise.

Smokescreen shook his head, "No, I can't read thoughts, Ironhide." He calmly blew out smoke as he turned to look Ironhide in the optics, "But I can read who hacks into my files."

Embarrassed, Ironhide looked away, "I…uhh, didn't know you could trace that."

"I can. I expected Red Alert to do it, Jazz was a given, but you..…you surprised me."

With a sigh, Ironhide took a long drink of his high grade as they once again lapsed into silence.

"He's going to end up with Jazz, you know that, right?"

Ironhide shook his head, "No, he's not. He doesn't like Jazz."

"Yes, he does."

Ironhide felt his temper flare, "No, he doesn't. He doesn't like Jazz, that's why he's avoidin' him."

Smokescreen took his legs down from the chair they were propped up on, sitting up in his seat he folded his arms on the table and leaned in to look Ironhide straight in the optics,

"Prowl is avoiding Jazz because he likes Jazz." Smokescreen put up a hand to halt Ironhide's protest, "Prowl has no problem dealing with mechs he dislikes. He's not all that fond of me but he's never avoided me, he may not seek me out but he does not avoid me. He's never told me to leave his office or shut a door in my face. Prowl has no problem dealing with dislike of a mech.

"However, Prowl has a very difficult time dealing with the complexity of emotions that comes with liking another on a more intimate level. Prowl's logic center naturally comes up with reasons for him not to get involved like his position here, rank, conflicts of job responsibilities, his glitch, his past relationship experiences. So Prowl has to fight an inner battle, logical reasons not to pursue a relationship verses his emotions encouraging him to pursue a relationship.

"So with Prowl avoiding Jazz, it isn't dislike. My guess is Prowl probably feels he needs time to sort it all out. And he will. And I'm telling you now he will end up with Jazz."

Ironhide was silent and Smokescreen could see the anger on his face, "Ironhide, you can't take any of this personally. After all, in the whole Jazz-Prowl problem, you're not even part of the equation. You're Prowl's friend and that's all you're ever going to be."

Ironhide abruptly stood, fists clenched, "Ya don' know what the frag yer talkin' 'bout, Smokescreen! Yer wrong!"

Ironhide turned and headed for the doorway, high grade forgotten.

Smokescreen called after him, "If you need to talk, you know where my office is."

He watched Ironhide storm out. Shaking his head he went back to lounging in his chair again, propping his feet back up before lighting another roll. He reached over and took Ironhide's forgotten cube of high grade for himself, no sense in letting it go to waste.

Over the next few cycles Ironhide was in one foul mood, snapping at just about anyone who crossed his path or irritated him. Smokescreen's words hung in his processor, refusing to leave. It was only when he was in Prowl's office one cycle watching as Jazz once again tried to slip in only have Prowl block him and tell Jazz if he didn't have something work related to discuss he needed to leave, did Ironhide's mood brighten. He wanted to smile, Smokescreen was wrong. Prowl didn't like Jazz. And if Smokescreen was wrong about that then he was wrong about Ironhide never being more than just a friend to Prowl.

---------------------- Authors Notes------------------

Just for the record, Ironhide is not a jerk. He's not sneaky or underhanded, everything he says (about Jazz or anyone else) he truly believes.

Reviews are always encouraging :)


	7. And So It Begins

I thank everyone who has so generously left reviews or faved....I really appreciate it!

Edited once by Cave_cat  
Re-edited by the wonderful **Taralynden**

**----**

"Vorn" = about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" = about 6 months, "Decacycle" = about 1 week, "Cycle" = about 1 day, "Orn" = about an hour, "Breem" = about a minute "click" = bout a mile

------

Chapter 7

------

Jazz was still unable to get Prowl alone. A little over three decacycles had pasted since Prowl had made him return to his own office and little had changed.

He sighed heavily as he dragged himself to his quarters and sat on his berth. He leaned back against the wall. He wasn't going to give up. There were signs of hope. In a meeting earlier Jazz had actually caught Prowl sneaking a glance at him. That was all the encouragement he needed. Now he just needed an opportunity to get close to Prowl again.

To get him alone.

Which was hard to begin with since Prowl was busy and made even harder with the likes of Ironhide and Bluestreak interfering.

Bluestreak's interference was unintentional. The young gunner was simply indulging in hero worship and basking in the attention Prowl gave him. Jazz had to hand it to Prowl. Not only did Prowl patiently listen to Bluestreak go on and on and on but had actually taken to letting Bluestreak help him in the form of running errands. Which Bluestreak carried out with an excitement and pride that could only make Jazz smile. No, Jazz couldn't find an ounce of anger or irritation in himself toward Bluestreak.

Ironhide, on the other hand, was an irritation. After Prowl glitched, Prime had asked Ironhide to check up on him and make sure he was following Ratchets orders. Ironhide seemed to have taken that task to spark and then decided to take it further. Checking up on Prowl even though Ratchet had cleared him some time ago. He was a regular in Prowl's office now. Ironhide had an office of his own and Jazz wanted Prowl to tell Ironhide to go sit in it. It was hard to get Prowl alone with Ironhide hovering around all the time.

Jazz sighed again, he'd figure out a way but he wasn't going to work on it now. Now he was going to get some recharge. He was tired; mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. Laying down on his berth Jazz allowed himself to relax enough to drift off into recharge.

It didn't last. Jazz jerked himself online a few orns later after a particularly bad dream. Nightmare really. One involving Ironhide kissing and touching Prowl the way Jazz wanted to and Prowl enjoying Ironhide's attention way too much. Awake, and now thoroughly disturbed by the vivid images his processor had conjured up, Jazz decided to take a walk. It might help clear his head.

He walked down the hall passing by Prowl's door and noticed a sliver of light at the bottom indicating Prowl was in his quarters. Jazz stopped and stared at that sliver of light. No one was around. No Prime, no Ironhide, no Bluestreak, no Red Alert, no one to step in and block him. Prowl was alone.

Jazz cycled air through his vents in a determined manner, walked up to Prowls door and knocked. A moment later it slid open and Prowl sounded surprised to see him there,

"Jazz?"

Jazz quickly curled a hand around the side of the door frame to prevent Prowl from sliding it shut in his face, like he had before,

"Prowl, I know I screwed up an' you're mad at me but please -."

Prowl shook his head, "Jazz, I am not angry with you".

Jazz frowned, "Don' lie ta me, Prowl, I haven't lied to you. Ya been avoidin' me cause you're mad at me. An' I understand your anger an' I know I made ya glitch an' all but Prowl," Jazz gave Prowl a sorrowful look, "Ya gotta believe meh, I'm sorry, I never meant ta hurt ya."

Prowl didn't respond, he simply stared at Jazz. Jazz tried to wait patently as the silence stretch on. Prowl remained silent for so long Jazz began to feel desperation creep up on him and the thought of getting on his knees and begging Prowl was started to sound like a good idea.

"Do you want to come in?"

The quiet invitation shocked Jazz, in all honesty it was not the response he had expected. Not being one to let the opportunity he'd been fantasizing about for decacycles slip by, he quickly nodded to Prowl,

"Yes."

Prowl stood back letting Jazz enter. Stepping into the room, Jazz took in Prowl's quarters and he almost smiled. The room was beyond clean and everything placed just so. It could serve as the poster of what total order looked like.

Jazz turned his gaze back to Prowl, he could tease later, right now there were more important things he needed to talk to Prowl about,

"Prowl -"

"I'm not angry with you. I mean it. I meant it when I said it to you the first time."

Jazz frowned, "Then why are ya avoidin' me? If your not angry with me then why all the distance?"

Prowl looked away and Jazz swore he could see Prowl fidgeting, "I….needed time."

"Time? For what?"

"I need time to see….how I…" Prowl hesitated, he looked unsure, as if he didn't want to continue, "...how I felt about you."

Prowl hesitated again and Jazz remained quiet watching him intently, "I wanted to see how I felt about you when you weren't around and…if I would miss you.".

Prowl sighed, "I wanted to know if my feelings had any solidity or if what I felt was simply a side effect of you being around me constantly."

Jazz mentally braced himself before he asked, "And?"

"I missed you."

Prowl sounded confident but he didn't look it. The words themselves were spoken with such affection and sincerity, Jazz had to smile. He stepped closer to Prowl,

"I've missed ya, too."

Prowl went silent but Jazz pushed,

"So tell me, Prowlie, what do we do next?"

"Your welcome to come back and work in my office, if you'd like. I can speak to Prime and see about getting you a desk in there-"

Jazz leaned toward him, "Naaaw, I like workin' off your desk, Prowlie. I like bein' close to ya…"

Jazz leaned in and kissed Prowl, softy, gently, and a thrill went through him as Prowl tentatively responded. Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl and deepened the kiss. He had wanted to kiss Prowl sooo badly, to touch him these past several decacycles. Jazz sighed into Prowl, it felt so good, so right.

Jazz moved to draw Prowl to the berth when Prowl balked. Prowl turned his head away with a broken "No" and struggled out of Jazz's arms. Jazz paused for a moment, slightly shocked and taken aback at Prowls sudden reluctance, before reaching out to him,

"Prowl..."

Prowl backed away shaking his head, "No, Jazz, no….we shouldn't be doing this."

Jazz followed him, "I don' see why not."

Prowl's logic center worked at lightning speed as it pushed to the forefront of his mind every reason for him not to get caught up in his emotions. Not to fall so recklessly into an obvious affair,

"We're Officers, Jazz. Our jobs-"

"Have nothin' ta do with this." Jazz spoke softy, soothingly, trying to coax Prowl back to him.

"There are rules…."

Jazz shook his head stepping closer, "No, we're not breakin' any rules, Prowl."

"I…Prime might not approve-"

"Optimus has no say in this."

"Jazz….I have a glitch."

"I know. I don' care."

Prowl looked at Jazz as though Jazz was just not comprehending the situation. Sentinel Prime would never have allowed this. Even though Prowl had been secretly enjoying Jazz's advances if Sentinel Prime were still alive he would have put a stop to all this along time ago. Sentinel Prime had preferred Prowl only engage in work relationships. Any kind of personal relationships were strongly discouraged. Prowl had and still did avoid anything personal for fear his glitch might act up and be discovered. And if he was honest with himself, he feared the rejection and backlash that would come from such a discovery. Maybe not from Jazz but from others.

"Glitches aren't normal."

Jazz had to grin, "Prowl, have ya not met the mechs stationed here? There's not a normal one in the lot! Except you, you're the closest we got ta that."

He stepped closer and this time Prowl didn't back up. He seemed too shocked move.

Sobering slightly, Jazz reached out to Prowl again,

"Prowlie, come 'ere."

Prowl hesitated before shaking his head and backing away but Jazz followed,

"Prowlie, please, gimme me a chance. Give us a chance."

Jazz kept advancing, pressing Prowl back into the wall. Jazz's face held a pleading look as black hands reached out and lightly caressed up Prowl's chest plate, one arm slipping around Prowl's shoulders as Jazz pressed close. His other hand traced gentle fingertips up and down Prowl's arm soothingly.

Jazz reached up and gently turned Prowls face to the side, "It's ok".

Prowl shivered. He couldn't summon the will to push Jazz away and as Jazz leaned in placing light kisses slowly along his jaw, Prowl found he didn't want to push Jazz away. Prowls resistance was crumbling and he was out of arguments. White hands clinched into fists at his sides torein in the urge to reach out and touch the smooth body so close his.

Prowl's optics dimmed, his voice took on a desperate pleading tone,

"Jazz, please…."

Jazz's lips caressed up from Prowl's jaw to place a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth,

"….I don't have affairs."

"I know", Jazz whispered the words against Prowl's mouth as he tilted his head to the side and captured Prowl's lips in a tender kiss. Prowl trembled.

Jazz moved his mouth against Prowl's unresponsive lips. Both arms encircling Prowl's neck as he pressed himself completely against the other black and white. Jazz moved to deepen the kiss, his glossa caressing over Prowl's lips, pressing between them, gently sucking on Prowl's bottom lip, nibbling it. Jazz smoothed a hand along Prowl's shoulders, the hand coming to rest against a splayed doorwing before firmly stroking the sensitive panel.

Prowl broke, all resistance vanished as he moaned against Jazz's lips, kissing back. Mouth opening, glossa seeking, caressing in return. Clenched hands unfurled reaching out to caress along Jazz's waist, fingers lightly tracing seams before Prowl wrapped his arms all the way around holding Jazz to him as tightly as he could. To the Pit with all, Prowl decided whatever repercussions his actions brought him tonight he'd deal with in the morning.

All the things Ironhide had told him about Jazz, how Jazz liked to play and use, that Jazz liked to berth jump, how Jazz would say whatever it took to get the mech he wanted into the berth just for a good interface, were ruthlessly pushed to the back of his processor. He had feelings for Jazz and even if those feelings weren't reciprocated it didn't matter, he wanted Jazz so much. And the feel of the saboteur's hands on him was just too good to stop.

Prowl locked his arms around Jazz's neck, kissing him hard and passionately, holding nothing back. Jazz moaned as Prowl ravished his mouth eagerly responding in kind. He gently drew Prowl away from the wall. His hands caressing down to cup and stroke the bottom of trembling doorwings causing Prowl to sigh and moan in turns.

Jazz backed up slowly, smiling into the kiss at how Prowl clung to him as if afraid he'd slip through Prowl's fingers and disappear. When the backs of Jazz's knees touched the edge of the berth he wrapped an arm around Prowl's waist, silently urging Prowl to follow, to lay with him.

Prowl wasn't exactly sure how he ended up in such a position but he found himself laying in between Jazz's legs on his berth, they were pressed together from hip to chest plate. His hands roamed Jazz's frame, fingers caressing seams, pressing in to tease wires. Prowl was delighted as his touch wrung moans and pleasured gasps from the saboteur. And it was Prowl's turn to grin into the kiss they shared when he reached up and wrapped a hand around one of Jazz's audio horns, massaging it. Jazz whined into his mouth and wrapped a leg around his own, trapping Prowl against him.

Jazz explored Prowl's body above him but his hands kept coming back to those wonderful doorwings. He stroked down their length, enjoying the feel of them trembling against his hands as Prowl shivered against him. Prowl broke their kiss to trail kisses down Jazz's cheek, gently nudging Jazz's head back. Prowl began to alternately kiss, lick, and nip along his neck, the mech beneath him moaning in pleasure from the attention.

Jazz slid his hands down Prowl's doorwings his fingers brushing against the hinge joints. Prowl moaned, arching into the touch. Encouraged, Jazz brushed the hinge joints lightly a few more times before pressing his fingers in deep, moving them in the joint to caress and tweak wires. Prowl suddenly tensed hissing in a breath as he curled in toward Jazz, trembling, his doorwings nearly shook as he arched his back. Jazz eased his touch at Prowl's reaction fearing he might not be doing this correctly and causing Prowl pain.

Jazz gently leaned his helm against Prowl's,

"Prowl? Does that hurt? Do you want me to stop?"

Prowl gasped against Jazz's neck, his grip on Jazz tightening,

"Don't stop….please, don't stop.."

Jazz grinned, kissing Prowl's audial as he whispered,

"Anything you say, love."

Jazz's fingers went back to work stroking wires, pressing and rubbing against sensitive hinges. Prowl groaned as he pressed himself against Jazz. Prowl's grip on Jazz shifted and he raked his fingers down Jazz's back. Jazz arched, gasping as fingers caught on seams and dipped in to stroke wires with firm caresses flooding his circuits with pleasure. Jazz writhed, his head falling back against the berth as he breathed Prowl's name.

Prowl attacked him, pressing Jazz into the berth as their lips meshed together once again. Prowl's hands slide around Jazz's waist sliding up to press under his chest plate, white fingers splayed into wires, stroking, caressing until Jazz was nearly wild in his arms. Jazz kissed back hard, hands pulling from hinge joints to grope every inch of Prowl he could.

Prowl buried his face in Jazz's neck, panting. Their systems revved, fans worked hard but were nearly useless in cooling their overheated bodies. Jazz lay gasping, his head resting against the berth as Prowl's fingers continued to stroke and fondle the wires under his chest plate. Black fingers explored the joints, pressing on hinges and wires till doorwings visibly quivered and overload slammed into Prowl. Groaning and shuddering, Prowl curled against Jazz more. White hands clenched under his chest plate, squeezing wires, sending tendrils of sharp overwhelming pleasure through Jazz triggering his own overload.

Shivering, Jazz clutched at Prowl till he could see straight again. Hands easing from joints to wrap around Prowl's shoulders, holding him comfortably to him. Prowl slowly came around, weakly removing his hands from under Jazz's chest plate, sliding them up to hug Jazz's shoulders. Prowl offlined his optics completely, he was spent, and it didn't take much of Jazz's gentle caressing along his back, shoulders, and helm to lull him into recharge.

-----------

Prowl on lined slowly, his processor groggy and systems sluggish. As groggy as he felt one reality make itself very clear.

He had woken from recharge alone.

A quick glance around his quarters confirmed Jazz wasn't there. His logic center practically mocked him for being so naive as to believe Jazz would stay. Prowl sat up with a sigh, swallowing his disappointment.

He knew very well this had been a possible outcome to last night. He had no one to blame but himself. Prowl briefly hoped it wouldn't be awkward working with Jazz after this. He sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, he needed to get some energon. His energy levels were extremely low. Sliding off the berth he walked to the door and was about to open it when it suddenly slid open on it own, revealing Jazz on the other side. Two cubes of energon in his hand.

At Prowl's look of surprise, Jazz quirked his head to the side a touch,

"What's wrong?"

Clearly not thinking straight, Prowl blurted out the first thing he thought of,

"I didn't expect you to came back, I thought you'd left."

Jazz smirked and with his free hand pushed Prowl backwards back into his room,

"Now why would I go 'an do somethin' stupid like that?"

As the door closed behind him, he handed Prowl one of the cubes of energon he was carrying,

"Drink up."

Jazz then wandered away sipping at his energon as he explored Prowl's quarters. Prowl turned his attention to the much needed energon in his hand, sipping it lightly before turning to watch as Jazz poked and prodded at things on his shelves. Prowl was hit with a sudden bout of nervousness. He didn't know what to do next. Usually when he spoke to another mech is was business, like when he spoke at meetings, or from behind a desk.

Even when he and Jazz had played games in the evenings, there had always been a desk between them. He didn't have that now. It left him feeling exposed and unsure. What was he expected to say? Or do? What was appropriate? While he generally didn't mind silence this silence was beginning to feel awkward. And on top of that, Jazz didn't usually care for silence. Maybe he should start a conversation but about what? Perhaps he should wait for Jazz to say something…..or would that be considered rude? He didn't know what to do. It had been a long, long, long time since he had engaged in any thing remotely this personal.

As if sensing Prowl's inner struggle, Jazz turned to look at him. Jazz had seen that look on Prowl's face before…..just before he had glitched,

"Prowlie? Ya look troubled."

Prowl gave him an apologetic look,

"I'm sorry, please forgive me, I'm just…unsure of how I'm expected to act. I don't know…" his voice trailed off.

Jazz had to applaud Prowl. He was treading on emotional ground he clearly didn't feel comfortable on but was trying his best to navigate anyway. He looked lost.

He smiled at Prowl, "I expect ya act like yourself."

Prowl shook his head, "I'm boring, Jazz."

Jazz's grin widened and he slowly started to walk toward Prowl,

"No you're not. Not ta me. I find ya very captivatin' an' fasinatin'."

Prowl didn't look convinced so Jazz continued,

"You're graceful. I like watchin' the way ya move, like the way ya gesture with your hands when emphasizin' a point or the subtle way ya quirk a brow when somethin' catches ya interest. Even the way ya stand perfectly still, fascinates me. Ya have an intelligence few can compare to an' our conversations often leave me thrilled and aroused on a purely intellectual level. Which brings me to that voice o' yours. Ya got no idea the impact ya voice has on me, Prowlie. There have been many times I would like nothin' more than ta shut my optics off an' listen to your voice as I touch myself."

Jazz gently removed the half empty cube of energon from Prowl's shocked hand, setting it aside. He slid his arms over Prowl's shoulders, wrapping Prowl in an embrace, pulling him close to look him straight in the optics,

"You are not boring."

Jazz leaned in capturing Prowl's lips, grinning when he felt Prowl wrap his arms around him and kiss him back passionately. Hesitantly, almost shyly, Prowl nudged them back toward the berth. Heat raising to his face plates in embarrassment at Jazz's enthusiastic response.

------------

"Ironhide!"

Ironhide turned toward the voice, seeing Red Alert jogging down a hall toward him.

He gave the mech a smile, "Well mornin' Red. What's the rush?"

"Have you seen Prowl? He's not in his office."

"Prowl's off duty today."

Red Alert scoffed at that, "That's not stopped him from being in his office before."

Ironhide chuckled, "Maybe this time Prowl took Ratchet's threats ta spark. Whatcha need?"

Red Alert held up a data pad,

"I'm meeting with Optimus Prime in less than an orn to order these security upgrades but I need Prowl's signature. I'd run to his quarters to get him to sign off on it but Ratchet's demanding I go in for a scan before my meeting with Prime. I don't have time to run around and do both!"

"Here," Ironhide held out his hand, "Gimme the file. I'm headin' that way. I'll drop by Prowl quarters an' have 'im sign it an' have it back ta ya befer yer meetin' with Prime."

Red Alert was hesitant, "Are you sure? If you're busy, you don't have to-"

Ironhide waved Red Alert's hesitation away, "Naw! Won't be a problem at all, Red."

Red Alert relinquished the file to Ironhide,

"Thank you, Ironhide! I owe you!"

Just then Ratchet pinged for Red Alert through his comm line,

"Red Alert! If your not here in TWO breems I swear I'll-"

"I'm on my way!" Red Alert practically snarled back at Ratchet, "Thank you again, Ironhide."

Then Red Alert turned and walked off toward the Med Bay, grumbling to himself as he did. Ironhide tucked the data pad under his arm and headed for Prowl's quarters. Ironhide was a bit surprised himself that Prowl was off duty and had yet to sneak back into his office to work like he usually did. Reaching Prowl's quarters, he knocked on the door. A few moments later Prowl's door cycled open.

Prowl looked up at him, "Good Morning, Ironhide. What can I do for you?"

Ironhide smiled down at him, "Mornin' Prowl. Hate ta bother ya on yer off time an' all but I ran in ta Red Alert an' he needs this file signed for a meetin' he's havin' with Prime in less than an orn. He'd a run here himself but Ratchets demandin' to scan 'em."

Ironhide handed over the file. Prowl murmured his thanks as he began to quickly scroll over it contents.

Ironhide smiled as he looked at Prowl…until his optics caught sight of a scuff mark. Then another and another and another. Ironhide's smile faded. Prowl was covered in scuff marks and there was even some black streaks of paint marring the pristine white of his plating. It didn't look like he'd been fighting, more like he'd been…….

Ironhides optics rose to look behind Prowl. He couldn't believe what he saw. Jazz was lounging…_lounging_ on Prowl's berth.

_No.._

Back propped up against the wall, Jazz had his legs stretched out along the length of the berth. He was reading something on a data pad sipping on an almost empty cube of energon. That meant he'd been there awhile.

_No….no…_

Ironhide looked back down at Prowl, those scuff marks now stood out vividly. Prowl finished up his quick scan of the file and signed it, holding it back out to Ironhide.

Ironhide hesitated before taking the data pad and leaning in close to Prowl, speaking in low tones as if to keep Jazz from hearing even though he really didn't care if Jazz did over hear,

"Prowl, is everythin' alright?"

Prowl smiled up at him, distinctly reminding Ironhide of his dream,

"Everything's fine, Ironhide. Thank you for asking. I'll see you next cycle."

Ironhide faintly nodded, "Yeah."

Then Prowl turned around, the door to his quarters cycling shut but not before Ironhide saw that Prowl was heading back to his berth. Back to Jazz.

------

Orns later found Ironhide at a back table in the rec room by himself hunched over a cube of high grade, contemplating the whole situation. He had hoped to avoid everyone but some one found him. At the sound of a chair moving, he looked up to see Smokescreen taking a seat next to him.

Ironhide just shook his head, "I had hoped Prowl wouldn't 'a been takin' in by Jazz's flashy an' flirtatious manner but seen beyond that ta the real mech. Ya know, see Jazz fer what he really is."

Smokescreen opened his mouth but Ironhide cut him off with the wave of his hand,

"Its alright", Ironhide looked Smokescreen in the optics, "Prowl's made a mistake, that's all. We all make mistakes. Besides, it won't be long before Jazz screws it up an' Prowl finds out what he's really like an' leaves him. And when he does, I'll be there fer Prowl. I just have to be patient."

Ironhide tossed back the rest of his high grade before turning to walk out of the rec room, leaving Smokescreen behind who simply shook his head.

Ironhide never noticed Mirage's disapproving glare following him out.

Mirage activated his cloaking device before he stood up. Slipping from the rec room soundlessly, he headed toward the Special Ops wing of the base. He had news for his fellow Ops mechs as well as tasks lest Jazz require saving from himself.

------------Authors Notes---------------

Yaaaaaaaaay!! Prowl and Jazz are together! FINALLY!  
And everyone give Ironhide some sympathy....this was pretty much his "Hey, lets rub some salt into that wound of yours" chapter.  
I got more chapters I'm working on the wings so stay tuned! :)

Reviews are always encouraging :)


	8. Red Alert

Thanks to everyone whose read and reviewed! I really really really appreciate it! :)

I'm a fan of the Red Alert/Inferno pairing, they are just too cute! So of course they get their own chapters. Through these chapters we'll actually get to see Prowl and Jazz first meet but not for another couple of chapters. Right now its about what Red Alert has gone through, becomes Security Director, and eventually meets Inferno.

Edited by the wonderful **Taralynden**

----------------

"Vorn" about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" about 6 months, "Decacycle" about 1 week, "Cycle" about 1 day, "Orn" about an hour, "Breem" about a minute

_(Set a few years before Prowl comes to the base.)_

Chapter 8

**Red Alert**

_-----------------_

He hated these introductory meetings.

Hated, hated, hated.

It always made him feel as if he were on display. Placed in front of a group to be looked at, judged, and sized up. A nice little visual to go along with the rumors they might have heard about him.

Whole place was probably teeming with rumors about him by now if they hadn't already been circulating prior to his arrival.

What did they know anyway.

He felt uncomfortable and out of place. Why'd they have to meet in such a large room anyway? There weren't THAT many senior officers to accommodate.

He wanted this to be OVER so he could go where he did feel comfortable. A room that was smaller…..and filled with monitors. Brightly lit screens that soothed him and provided comfort by showing him everything he needed to see at any given time, from any angle, any where on the base. Or would once he fully took over and turned the current security system into a proper security system.

Red Alert chanced another quick glance around the table. He knew of these mechs but didn't actually know most of them. Jazz, Ironhide, Range, Smokescreen, Ratchet, Dodger……Prime.

He still felt a mixture of embarrassment and shock over the whole strange ordeal of Prime contacting him to request his transfer.

He had received an "official" communiqué sent only to him from "The Prime" who was requesting an audience with him…..riiiiiight, because The Prime, Leader and Commander of all Autobots, had nothing better to do than to hold an "audience" with a glitch at a small lookout base nestled in the middle of nowhere. Red Alert had no doubt this was but another prank being pulled on him. Those fraggers….

He had tried to take apart and trace the message but couldn't find anything other than Prime's encryption code. Unable to pinpoint the culprit, he had promptly sent a response that hacking into, hijacking, and/or mimicking The Prime's - or any other officer's - encryption codes was against all protocols and was punishable by brig time or worse.

The message had bothered him. He was skilled and didn't like that he couldn't track down the hacker like he usually could. Video communications were currently banned thanks to Decepticons intercepting and altering the video and audio feeds thus the encryption code signatures had been put into place, for now anyway. These were harder to hack into and alter but most importantly the majority of communications slipped easily through any Decepticon interception.

Just as he had decided to put the obvious prank from his mind and focus on work, another communiqué arrived for him. Once again claiming to be "official" and once again stating that The Prime was requesting an audience with him. Irritated, he sent back the same response he had before adding to it that he would be filing a report about this prank and when the creator of this communication was found they would be held accountable for their actions.

These communications had continued back and forth and by the end of the decacycle what patience he had earlier hadwas lost. The prank had served its purpose, ha ha ha, and now the individual was running it into the ground. In an attempt to end the game, Red Alert bluntly stated that should The Prime wish to speak with him he could very well show up at the base himself and address him mech to mech. He couldn't have been happier when two cycles passed without further communication sent to him. Good, he had better things to do than deal with than stupid pranks.

However, that happiness was short-lived,quickly vanishing when an unannounced ship landed at their base not a decacycle later. He knew that ship….every mech knew that ship. A feeling of dread began to creep into him as he watched on the monitors, the doors of the ship opened….and then The Prime walked out.

Disbelieving, he watched with wide optics as his superiors ran out to meet him. Panic touched his processor as he watched the screens, the last communication he had responded to drifted unbidden to mind.…no, no, no, this…this had to be a coincidence. This had nothing to do with him or those communiqués. There was no way The Prime would ever want to speak with him.

Jerking slightly from surprise, he looked down as a message chimed for his attention on his computer. A message from his superiors….informing him that he was to meet with The Prime in one of the private meeting rooms.

His head fell into his hands. What had he done!? Any panic he had been trying to subdue or hold back unleashed itself and flooded his processor.

He was dead mech, that's all there was to it. He'd walk into that room and Prime would deactivate him where he stood. Or if deactivating him wasn't on The Primes agenda then surely Prime would throw him in the brig for insubordination, forever and ever. Brig…Primus, he'd threatened to throw the sender, PRIME, in the brig over those communications! Slag, how many direct orders had he completely disregarded in those communiqués!?

Red Alert started almost violently, ripped from his thoughts, as the security room door was flung open and his superior stepped in, hissing,

"Red Alert! Get off your aft! Optimus Prime is in the meeting room, do not keep him waiting!"

Red Alert quickly stood, "I'm going!" he all but snarled back.

He picked through and gathered a few data pads. He had no idea what he was going to do with them but it gave the appearance he knew what he was doing. Data pads in hand he brushed past his superior, who had yet to lose that 'I don't approve of you' look he'd had since Red Alert's transfer there over eight vorns ago.

"Fragging glitch."

He heard his superior mutter before walking the other way. Red Alert flinched as he walked toward the meeting room. What if that's what Prime was thinking? He got a sudden sick, sinking feeling. What if Prime was here to drive home a point? Glitches can't do proper work. Can't hold positions of responsibility. What if Prime had every intention of relieving him of his duty here?

Sure the base was in the middle of nowhere and he didn't like a single one of the mechs stationed here with him, but he was working security. It was what he loved to do. It was what he had always been good at. Sentinel Prime had sent him here to keep him quiet and out of the way. He should have felt grateful toward Sentinel Prime for that, not all glitches were allowed such luxuries….of course not all of them had been willing to lower themselves to begging like he had.

Red Alert stood in front of the meeting room door attempting to give himself a moment to calm down. As he stood there he was reminded of the last time he stood before The Prime. Sentinel Prime….and Red Alert had had to beg for a position no one else wanted. Sentinel Prime barely tolerated glitches and he had found Red Alert's personality abrasive and his sensitive glitch particularly intolerable.

Sentinel Prime had made him beg….but he wouldn't do it again. No matter what happened in this meeting, he would not stoop to begging, not again, not with this Prime.

New found resolve and what bravery he could dredge up in place, he cycling the door open and stepped in.

Prime sat on the opposite side of the table. He took a good look at his Leader…..Primus, he was big! Red Alert was instantly surprised to see the Second in Command, Dodger, was not with him. In Dodger's place sat one grinning visored mech.

He walked forward to take his seat opposite his superiors. Red Alert had met the visored mech, Jazz, before. They had worked together vorns ago but Jazz had pretty much disappeared since then. He had thought, given Jazz's line of work, that maybe the Ops mech had met his demise. Clearly not.

Jazz was beaming a friendly smile as he neared them but Red Alert knew better than to be taken in by the charmer. He knew what Jazz what capable of and those cheerful features and that lazy manner of his should never be taken purely at face value. Only an idiot would believe what their optics saw when it came to Jazz.

Red Alert took his seat, careful to look as calm and professional as possible. Prime gazed down at him.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"Not at all, Sir."

Red Alert dropped his gaze to the table, best to get it out now and be over and done with it,

"Sir, I want to apologize. About the communiqués --"

But Prime stopped him,

"No apologies needed. I was only recently made aware of the extent of the communiqués sent back and forth between you and……the individual I had asked to formally contact you."

Prime gave a short-lived half-hearted glare to the mech sitting next to him. Jazz simply kept on smiling. Prime turned his gaze back to Red Alert,

"I sincerely hope the communiqués were not too bothersome and did not take away from your work."

Red Alert looked him in the optics and didn't find a hint of malice, sarcasm, impatience, or mockery and could only respond with a meek "No."

Prime leaned forward on the table and continued,

"Good. Now, I've asked you here because you have skills and experience that I think would make you a valuable member to add to my unit."

Red Alert frowned,

"What unit would that be, Sir?"

Red Alert readied himself, if Prime thought he was going to join some nonsense charitable "glitch" unit then he had another thing coming.

"My unit, my team at headquarters."

Red Alert simple gave a blank look.

"I'd like to place you in the position of Senior Security Director."

Red Alert nearly locked up in shock.

"S-Senior Security Director?"

Prime gave a nod, "Yes, you've come highly recommended. Would you be interested or willing to take this position?"

Red Alert had to think for a moment. This was huge! To be offered a position of this magnitude was almost beyond comprehension. Of course if he accepted he'd go up before the panel of senior officers, interviews and tests would be conducted. A long and lengthy process….but if he even had a shot at it….

He looked up at Prime with a small grin and nodded, "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

Prime's optics seemed to brighten, "Excellent." Prime stood, leaning over the table to shake Red Alert's hand,

"Welcome to the team."

Red Alert smiled, eagerly returning the hand shake. Prime stepped away from the table,

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'll inform your supervisors of your departure and arrange for your replacement."

Red Alert looked at Prime in shock, "De-departure?"

Prime looked at him and nodded, "Yes." Then he turned to Jazz, "Jazz, aid Red Alert in collecting and packing his personal things. We leave as soon as you're done."

Prime walked around the table and patted Red Alert on the shoulder,

"Thank you for accepting, its good to have you with us."

Then Prime walked out of the room, leaving one shocked Red Alert staring after him.

Red Alert shook his head as he started at the doorway,

"This…this isn't…"

He turned back to Jazz,

"This isn't how its done!"

He started at the doorway again before turning back to Jazz,

"There..there..there are tests and…and interviews….I…..Is this a joke??"

Jazz gave a small laugh, "No joke, Red!"

"Red?"

"Yep." Jazz stood, "Ya one of us now, Red. Come on, lets get your stuff and get ya outta here."

Red Alert shook his head, "No, no, this isn't how its done. There's a whole list of procedures that need to be -"

"Don' worry 'bout none of that, Red. Prime's taken care of it. As of right now, you're our new Security Director."

"But this is completely unorthodox!"

Jazz rounded the table, "Yep. Prime's not playin' the bureaucratic games Sentinel did. Optimus wants results, he ain't interested in Autobot politics or playin' favorites."

Jazz reach down and tugged Red Alert up from the chair, slinging an arm around his shoulders as he led Red Alert out of the meeting room and down the hall,

"Alright then, now that that's all settled -"

"It's not all settled, Jazz. There are set ways of going about this. One can't simply say they're going to put someone in a position and then do so and that's the end of it."

"Optimus can. He's Prime. That's what Primes do. You should know that, Red. Sentinel put you here."

Red Alert looked down, "That was different."

Jazz glanced at him out of the corner of this visor, "No, it wasn't."

Jazz looked down the hall, "So, which one's your quarters?"

Red Alert pointed behind them, "My quarters, there….back that way."

"Oh." Jazz turned them around, arm still slung over Red Alert's shoulders as they walked back down the hall, "Ya gonna like it at headquarters, mechs there are great. Might see a few familiar faces too."

Red Alert didn't make any comment as he stopped them and punched in the code to his quarters. Jazz finally released him in favor of looking around his room.

"Ya got your own private quarters, huh? Nice. Usually in places like these everyone has a roommate."

Red Alert started pulling data pads from a shelf,

"I had a roommate, Jazz, but he refused to share a space with a glitch. My supervisors saw it as a valid argument and reassigned him to a new room. They never assigned me a new roommate because they didn't see any point in it."

Jazz fell silent as Red Alert continued to pull data pads from the shelf, stacking them on his berth. After a moment Jazz walked over to where Red Alert was and leaned against the data file case, falling into Red Alert's line of vision

"So, what needs packin'?"

Red Alert was thankful he didn't collect too much and with both he and Jazz packing the job was done in a little over an orn. Eight vorns of living there and all he had to show for it was two crates full of data pads and personal items. Jazz had left to tell Prime they were just about ready to go.

Red Alert looked around the now barren quarters, an unsure feeling creeping up on him. It wasn't that he would miss this place, he had simply gotten used to it here. Now he'd have to get used to how things would be at the new base. A whole new set of stress factors. He sighed into the empty room and hoped they had an excellent medic at headquarters.

Not wanting to wait on Jazz, Red Alert picked up one crate and headed to the docking area. He didn't run into a single mech, whether they were ignoring him or actually busy it didn't matter, he had no friends here to say goodbye to. Setting the crate on the docking area he went back for the second one, locking his door behind him one last time.

He set the second crate down by the first and looked at Prime's ship. He was thankful to be leaving this place but nervous about what awaited him. If he was treated like this at some small lookout post, how would senior officers treat him? Jazz didn't count, he was friendly with everyone.

"Red Alert?"

Red Alert turned in the direction of the voice seeing a large red mech walking toward him,

"Yes?"

The mech grinned as he walked over to him and Red Alert was forced to look up at him, the mech was nearly as tall as Prime.

"Hello."

The mech held out a hand in welcome, Red Alert reached out to shake hands and quickly found himself caught in a strong warrior style handshake,

"Nice ta meet yah, Red Alert. Name's Ironhide, Weapons Specialist. Welcome to the team, I've heard good things about yah."

Red Alert could feel his face give something between a grin and a wince as he subtly tried to pull his arm and hand free while trying to show gratitude for the friendly welcome. It hadn't been expected.

"Thank you. I'm-I'm honored to be part of it."

Looking down at the crates by Red Alert, Ironhide finally released him,

"Here, lemme give yah a hand with these."

Red Alert tried to protest but Ironhide wouldn't hear of it as he lifted one of the crates,

"Nonsense, yah just relax fer now cause once yah all settled in ya'll have work up to yer optics to deal with."

There was a teasing tone to his voice but the mech wore a smile that was friendly and open.

Red Alert allowed himself to give a small smile back,

"Thank you."

So far, this wasn't so bad.

"Hey, Red!"

Red Alert and Ironhide looked over to see Jazz trotting over to them,

"Ya want some help?"

Before Red Alert could speak Ironhide turned fully toward Jazz.

"Yeah, here."

Ironhide placed the crate he'd been holding in Jazz's hands, keeping hold of the opposite end,

"Try 'n remember you're an officer, Jazz, and act like one. There's no need ta bellow from across a room so everyone's attention is on yah. And go easy on th' nicknames," Ironhide shoved the box fully into Jazz's hands, "not everyone thinks they're cute."

They glared at each other before Ironhide picked up the other crate, turning to Red Alert with a friendly smile,

"See ya on board, Red Alert."

Red Alert nodded as Ironhide turned and walked toward the ship, ignoring the glare Jazz was directing at him.

After a few moments Jazz sighed, shrugging his shoulders back to ease their tension before turning to Red Alert who wore uncertain look. Jazz grinned,

"Don' worry, he only sweet talks me like that."

Before Red Alert could ask any questions about what had just transpired Jazz tilted his head toward the ship,

"Lets go, Red."

Red Alert fell into step with Jazz as they walked toward the ship. After a few steps Jazz glanced at him, speaking softly,

"Ya don' mind me callin' ya Red, do ya?"

Red Alert gave a shake of his head, "No, not really."

It was far better than other names he'd been called.

A big grin took up Jazz's face, "Good."

On board Ironhide was already occupying a back seat, Jazz took up a back seat across the aisle from him, icy glares shot back and forth until they decided to ignore each other. Prime boarded right after Red Alert and Red Alert hastily moved to get out of his way. Prime took in his two other officers before sitting down in one of the front seats, beckoning Red Alert to sit next to him.

Red Alert did so, tensely, unsure of what conversation would be appropriate. Prime gave his other two other officers one more glance before sitting back in his seat sighing wearily. Red Alert looked at the two again before turning back to Prime.

"They don't seem to get along."

The words were out before he could stop them. He wished he could take them back, it was none of his business.

But Prime simply shook his head speaking softly,

"Usually they are far more tolerant of each other. I'm afraid this recent tension is my fault. I thought it would be a good idea to have the three of us sit down and let the two of them talk out their differences."

Red Alert was a touch shocked to hear a Prime admit fault to anything, "It…didn't go well?"

Prime gave a slight shake of his head, "No. However I did learn a few things."

"Such as?"

"Jazz is much stronger than he appears to be and I now know it takes at least five mechs to pull them apart and keep them on opposite sides of a room." Prime leaned his head back against the seat, "I'm still considering demoting Smokescreen for having even suggested it, but of course in hindsight I think he was joking when he made the suggestion to begin with. He laughed when he heard what happened."

Prime glanced at Red Alert, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you these things. If I continue on you'll demand we turn the ship around take you back."

Red Alert looked at Prime to see his optics shining with amusement. Red Alert smiled and settled back in his seat. Prime had a sense of humor.

The ride took a few orns, during which Red Alert was actually able to get some recharge. It was when they landed he became tense again. Both he and Prime stood. Prime looked over at his two officers,

"Ironhide, see Red Alert to the meeting room. Jazz, come with me. I'll see you in a short while, Red Alert."

Red Alert nodded and moved so Prime and Jazz could leave. He watched them go, a feeling of apprehension building in him at the thought of a meeting.

Ironhide came up behind him and clasped him on the shoulder,

"Don' worry, hopefully this will be a quick one."

Ironhide moved past him, motioning him to follow. Once out of the ship, Red Alert took in headquarters. It was huge. Forcing himself to focus, he walked quickly to catch up to Ironhide. Once in the base, they walked down a series of halls, turning this and that way. When Ironhide stopped and turned to him with a big grin,

"Wanna see the Security Room?"

Red Alert looked at the door.

_Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…_

"Are you sure we have time?"

"Oh yeah, we'll be fine."

Ironhide punched in a code and stepped back as the door slid open. Tilting his head toward the room,

"Go on, take a peek."

Red Alert stepped in. The room had to be two, three times the size of the outlook's. Monitors lined the majority of three walls, a much larger monitor sat before the console surrounded by smaller monitors. The opposite wall was covered in data file shelves and a desk sat just in front of that. Red Alert couldn't help but grin, he loved it.

"Come on, Red Alert, we should git going. You'll get all the time yah want and then some in here soon enough."

Red Alert nodded, frowning slightly at how some of the cameras were set up,

"Who was the Security Director before?"

Red Alert turned and walked out the room and started down the hall with Ironhide,

"Mech's name was Stripnine."

"Where is he?"

"Gone, mech couldn't…uh…handle the stress well."

It was at this point Red Alert got the feeling he wasn't being told something. He didn't have time to question it or even think on it as he was directed in to a room just as other senior officers began to file in and take their seats. Red Alert sat where Ironhide directed him to.

Some of the officers seemed to look at him with interest, while others gave him hard disapproving looks. It seemed that some had not agreed with Prime's choice of newSecurity Director. The meeting began and Prime explained Stripnine's departure to another base, no real reason given, then introduced Red Alert, going over some of Red Alert's background and experience.

And now, a whole orn later, he was still in the meeting. He really wanted out, he was feeling very uncomfortable, restless, tired. He could feel himself getting defensive as he continued to get disapproving glares from one or two officers, clearly not happy about him being there.

Finally, thankfully, Prime dismissed them. Red Alert was as patient as he could be as Ironhide showed him to his quarters, his crates from the ship placed carefully on his berth. Ironhide also left him a map of the base with directions on how to get to the Security Room, the commons room, training room, so on.

Ironhide bid him good night, it was only then that Red Alert realized how late it was getting. He sat on his berth looking over his quarters, not really feeling like unpacking but couldn't bring himself to recharge either. Not yet anyway.

Taking out the map, Red Alert found his way to the Security Room. He reached out to type in the code Ironhide had given him when the door slid open. The mech on the other side looked startled to see him.

"Oh! Excuse me, Sir, I wasn't expecting you."

Thrown by the amount of respect in his voice, Red Alert looked at the mech,

"That's alright, I just wanted to look around. Where are you going?"

"On break, Sir, I was going to get a cube of energon from the commons room. However, if you prefer I stay -"

Red Alert shook his head, "No, go ahead, I'm just going to go in and look around."

The mech nodded, "Yes, Sir. If you need anything, Sir, please let me know."

Red Alert nodded, "I will, thank you."

The mech smiled and nodded at him before leaving to get his cube of energon. Red Alert watched him go, it was strange to be called "Sir" so much.

But he liked it.

He walked into the room, door sliding shut and locking behind him, he took a seat at the center console. Looking up and over at the various monitors. He shook his head, the previous Senior Security Director, Stripnine, had no fragging clue how to create and maintain a proper security system. Amateur. He'd have to start almost from scratch.

Red Alert braced his hands against the console, looking up at the monitors. This was a big job.

He could do this.

Jazz and Ironhide believed he could.

Prime believed in him.

With a sigh he surveyed the base from the view points of various cameras.

He could do this.

***********Authors notes**************  
I wanted more in this chapter but it ran long. So next chapter will get Inferno in the mix as well as establish why previous security director left...give ya a hint, there are two reasons he left...one is red and the other is of a golden color.  
To me, Red Alert has always come off as someone who went through a lot of adversity.  
I had once heard, somewhere, that Optimus was a soldier before becoming Prime. I think this would give him a more realistic view of his fellow Autobots and stop him from falling into a more biased frame of mind. He wasn't an elitist to begin with so he doesn't feel he's 'above' everyone else....after all he's well known for fighting on the ground, on the front lines with his men. This is why he doesn't care if Red Alert has a glitch and why eventually has Prowl as SIC even with his glitch. As far as Optimus is concerned if a mech can do a job and do great at it, it doesn't matter if he's got a glitch or not. Even if said glitch causes panic attacks, Optimus is willing to work through it.  
Reviews are always welcomed and loved! :)


	9. Spy Games

Oh, its been FOREVER since I touched this fic. But been making myself sit down and write and behold! New Chapter! Yay! :)

Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews, or favorites...its all very very greatly appreacited! Thanks! :)

* * *

Warnings: slash

"Vorn" about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" about 6 months, "Decacycle" about 1 week, "Cycle" about 1 day, "Orn" about an hour, "Breem" about a minute

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**Spy Games**

* * *

Red Alert directed a glare across the room.

The medic stood there, arms crossed over his chest, back straight, standing tall, mouth set in a determined frown, optics narrowed, returning a hard glare.

Were Red Alert a weaker mech he might have actually been intimidated. But he wasn't. He was, however, caught between being impressed at how the medic had so firmly stood his ground, not giving so much as an inch, and being acutely irritated for the very same reason.

"You have my records. Including my most recent examine, not two decacyles ago, signed AND dated by the attending medic at the outpost. What you ask is unnecessary."

The medic launched into a rehearsed explanation once more,

"Any new mech coming into this base is required to have an up to date examination -"

"I just told you, I already HAVE an up to date examination."

The red and white medic shook his head,

"Not by me."

Red Alert didn't like this. No matter what he said the medic wouldn't back down.

Red Alert huffed again,

"I have an up to date examination."

"Not by me."

The medic spoke with such an infuriating calm authority, Red Alert felt his temper inch up another notch.

"This is a waste of time! The examination in my records is perfectly fine! There's nothing wrong with it. Furthermore, if you continue with these ridiculous demands, I'll take this issue up with the Prime himself."

The medic simply shrugged,

"Your welcome to do so if you want. Though you'll be sorely disappointed since Optimus has no authority over Med Bay procedures."

_What? _Red Alert could only stare for a moment in shock.

The corner of the medics mouth tilted up in a small smirk,

"That's right, Optimus has no say here. This is MY Med Bay. MY domain. We follow MY rules."

"But…"

Red Alert hesitated, he was losing ground. This wasn't how things were suppose to go. This usually worked. Usually after enough fussing, a little fighting, and a few shows of temper the medics would give up, not wanting to deal with a glitch anymore than they have to, and sign off on the examinations just to get him out of there. This had to work, he hated being poked and prodded at.

He'd had enough of that as a youngling. Medics purposefully inducing his glitch so they could stand back and watch the effects while writing down useless ways to 'cure' him. And after all was said and done, there was no 'cure'. Just a bunch of unpleasant memories, all staring medics. As far as Red Alert was concerned medics were to be seen only when he DID glitch, not when he was perfectly fine. When he was perfectly fine, he stayed far far away from them. And the medic in front of him would be no exception.

Difference in height aside, they once again mirrored each others stubborn stance. Red Alert decided to switch tactics, if temper didn't work then maybe…

"Listen, this is a waste of time. For the both of us. I have a massive amount of work ahead me this cycle. I'm sure your busy -"

"Nope. You're the only patient on my schedule. So, please, continue on. Your work may pile up but I got all cycle."

Red Alert frowned, jerking his head to the side as he looked away. There was no way out of this, the medic was not going to back down. With an irritated sigh, Red Alert conceded,

"Fine."

Ratchet approached the mech slowly and with more caution that he would the average patient, Red Alert was too tense. He'd never had someone fight him for nearly two orns over a simple examination. For Primus sake, it was only a few hook ups, maybe 5 or 10 breems then the exam would be done. Then again, no other mech on base had the unique condition Red Alert did.

Ratchet gestured to the med berth,

"Please, sit."

He watched Red Alert hesitate then reluctantly sit on the berth. Assured his new and troubled patient wasn't going to put up anymore of a fight, Ratchet pulled a monitor over and took out the connector wires. He noticed Red Alert watched his every move with something akin to suspicion and with no small amount of disgust.

Ratchet heaved an internal sigh. Just what he needed. A mech with a glitch who's been mishandled by probably every medic he's come into contact with to the point he now trusts no one in the medical field. It was going to take a long time to build a bridge across this gap. Great. And here he'd thought the Twins would be his biggest challenge. Frag, had he been wrong.

* * *

Peace, for Red Alert, lasted two decacycles…two decacycles and then it happened.

He was being followed.

He wasn't sure for what purpose just yet but he was definitely being followed. Granted, it was one of the worst spy jobs he'd ever witnessed but he was being spied on none the less.

He failed to shake his pursuer as he weaved down hall ways and through doors. His pursuer was patient and no doubt processed a keen knowledge of the bases layout, most likely having been in residence longer. That could pose a threat. He needed to find a knowledgeable ally, one capable of identifying and maybe even restraining his pursuer, if need be. Drawing this spy game to a close.

Red Alert walked quickly to the rec room, all the time fully aware of the mech clumsily tailing him. Entering the rec room he got only a few feet before seeing the mech who might be able to help him, Jazz. He walked stiffly over toward Jazz, trying to look like he was going for the energon dispenser to get a cube of his own, before suddenly flinging himself sideways into the seat opposite Jazz and hunkered down in the chair.

Jazz gave him a odd look,

"Uh…Red? What was that all about?"

Sliding further down in the seat, Red Alert spoke quietly,

"I'm being followed."

A grin took up Jazz's face and he started to giggle,

"And was that, perchance, your 'evasive' maneuver?"

Jazz gave a snort before leaning forward hunching over his cube of energon, breaking out in full laughter. Though he atleast had the courtesy of not being too loud.

Red Alert frowned, feeling foolish, even as he glared at Jazz from beneath his helm,

"Shut up, I'm not Special Ops."

Jazz continued to laugh.

Red Alert's frown deepened,

"I'm serious, Jazz, someones following me. I've been spied on all cycle."

Jazz straighten up, still laughing quietly as he looked at Red Alert,

"And whose spyin' on ya?"

Red Alert bit his lower lip before chancing a quick glance over his shoulder then looked back at Jazz, speaking in hushed tones,

"He's two tables behind me, the large red mech."

Jazz leaned to the side, gazing past Red Alert, to get a look at the mech in question. Sure enough, described mech was in fact two tables away. Upon meeting Jazz's gaze the mech gave a big grin and a friendly wave. Jazz grinned back before straightening again.

"I hate ta put a damper on your claims, Red, but that mech couldn't spy on someone if his or anyone else's spark depended on it."

Red Alert frowned,

"Well…..that may be your opinion, but he's been following me around all cycle…..spying on me!"

Jazz took a drink of his energon,

"Why?"

The frown melted away as Red Alert gave him a blank look,

"What?"

Jazz leaned back in his seat,

"Whys he followin' ya?"

For a moment Red Alert was speechless, what kind of question was what?

"I don't know!"

Jazz made a slight gesture in the direction the mech sat,

"So, ask 'em."

Red Alert looked at Jazz in disbelief,

"One does not simply walk up to a mech whose spying on you and inquire as to why. Besides, I don't care why-"

Jazz leaned in toward Red, grinning,

"Oh, yes ya do. And th' solution's simple. Just call 'em over an' ask."

Red Alert shook his head,

"What? No! I can't do that."

Jazz set his cube down on the table,

"No? Well, I can."

Jazz leaned pass Red Alert and shouted,

"Hey, Inferno! Wanna join us?"

Red Alert's optics went wide as he gasped at Jazz in shock,

"Jazz! What are you….what are you doing? You can't just call him over here!"

Jazz grinned, shameless,

"Just did."

Red Alert looked panicked as he started to stand,

"I have to go. I have to-"

Jazz hooked a foot on one of the chairs legs and quickly pulled it forward, knocking Red Alert back into the seat.

"Sit. Stay. Relax. It'll do ya some good ta speak with a mech that's not myself, Optimus, or your assistant."

Red Alert stared at Jazz and shook his head,

"But-"

"Hey there, Jazz! Real nice of ya ta ask me over."

The tall red mech stepped up to the table, his bright gaze meeting Red Alert's uncertain one unwaveringly as he pulled out the chair and sat next to Red Alert,

"Always enjoy good company ta sittin' alone."

He smiled down at Red Alert, who quickly averted his gaze to the table top, shoulders hunched. Jazz grinned as he watched the two,

"Uh, Inferno, have ya had the honor of meetin' our newest Security Officer?"

Inferno rested an elbow on the table as he turned in his seat to face Red Alert, waiting with a grin for the new mech to introduce himself. Red Alert continued to stare down at the table, hands clasped together in his lap. Jazz once again spoke up,

"Inferno, this is Red Alert."

Inferno grinned and leaned forward a touch toward the smaller officer,

"It's a pleasure ta meet ya, Red Alert, Sir."

Red Alert discreetly slid his gaze over to Inferno, taking in the openly happy eager expression directed completely at him, on the taller mechs face before looking back down at the table and muttering something that sounded like 'Nice to meet you.' in a nearly inaudible voice.

Inferno leaned in a little more, trying to peer into Red Alert's downcast face,

"So, which base did ya transfer here from? Are ya finding yer way around here, alright? Ah remember haven' a heck of a time adjustin'. Ah' mean, this base is bigger than most. And Ah've seen ya around upgradin' the security system. Really impressive work. Puts Stripnine ta shame. Bet your former base wasn't happy ta see ya go. Ah'm sure they miss ya-"

Red Alert abrubty slid out of his seat and stood,

"Excuse me, I need to get back to work."

Inferno straighted, smile faltering, slipping away as he watched Red Alert walk quickly toward the exit, calling out after his retreating form,

"Ah'…oh, ok. Ah'll talk to ya later then…."

The security officer giving no reply as he disappeared around the corner. Inferno sighed and slumped down in his seat,

"Slag."

Jazz smiled at the dejected looking mech,

"Don' take any offense. Red Alert's just….work orientated. But, uh, in the future ya might wanna stay away from the topic of the base he transferred from. There were..…ill feelings between him and some of those at the base."

Inferno shook his head,

"Leave it ta me ta hit on the one thing Ah' shouldn't."

"Don' let it getcha down. Hey, next time ya see Red Alert, ask him if he'd like ta grab a cube with ya after shift. Ya know, somethin' nice an' simple."

Inferno's mouth quicked up in a slight smile as he stood to leave,

"Don' worry, Ah'm far from down, Jazz. An' thanks fer invitin' me over, openin' the door an' all. Ah' appreciate it. Been following 'em around almost all cycle trin' ta think of a good way ta introduce myself."

Jazz tilted his head to the side as he looked up at the mech,

"Ya been following 'em all cycle just ta think of a good way to introduce yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't ya just walk up to 'em and introduce yourself?"

Inferno gave Jazz a short laugh and a lopsided grin,

"Cause that would've been weird."

Jazz grinned and shook his head. Inferno gave him a wave as he made his exit,

"See ya around, Jazz. An' thanks again!"

Jazz gave a small laugh, still shaking his head slightly,

"Any time, my friend, any time."

* * *

Red Alert stood on a small step ladder, the camera hooked up to the wall in front of him was open, wires tumbling out as he carefully took it apart to find out why this one kept giving him static laced visual feed. Looking close, he found some of the wires were barely hanging on….as though they had been tampered with. Interesting. Made him wonder what made this hall so special-

"Hey!"

Red alert sucked in a startled breath, jerking back, almost ripping the wires out of the camera as his foot slipped, falling backward till a large, warm hand splayed against his back, stopping his fall, keeping him upright.

Red Alert turned a startled gaze to look down at the mech holding him up. Inferno. Even on the step ladder, Red Alert found he was only a head taller than the mech now. The red mech suddenly gave a sheepish grin,

"Sorry, Ah' thought ya heard me walk up."

Red Alert shook head dumbly,

"No."

Inferno gave him a cheerful grin, that happiness shining in his optics as they locked onto Red Alert's,

"Ah'll have ta remember ta announce my presence more loudly next time."

Red Alert opened his mouth to speak couldn't push anything out. The cheerfulness and out right happiness Inferno was directing at him, as though thrilled to see him, shocked him into silence. Red Alert couldn't help but find that kind, engaging smile Inferno was giving him, most disarming.

"I…..Y-….What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Ah' was just on my way ta my shift when Ah' saw ya. Thought Ah'd stop an' see if ya'd be interested in havin' a cube a' energon with me after shifts are over. If Ah'm not mistaken, yers is over 'bout the same time mine is."

Red Alert stared for a moment, suspicion raising in him as he scrutinizing Inferno's face. No one asked to spend time with him…and actually meant it. It was usually a prank, a trick, or an attempt to make him look stupid. He looked for it but couldn't find any trace of descent, nothing in his face, optics, or voice made him think Inferno was lying. In fact, the sheer undisguised hopefulness that shown up at him through bright optics as Inferno looked up at him, almost made him believe this wasn't a prank. That Inferno genuinely wanted to spend time with him. Red Alert wasn't sure how he felt bout that. He knew how to handle teasing and pranks….not genuine interest.

It was then he became aware of Inferno's hand still on his back, still holding him up. Warm fingers pressing firmly but gently against him. Red Alert jerked forward, looking away as he quickly righted himself. The hand against his back lingered for a moment longer before Inferno slowly drew his hand away. Coolness settling where warmth had been and Red Alert mentally berated himself for feeling bereft at the loss of contact.

That bereft feeling fueled his resolve. There was no sense in wanting something he knew he couldn't have. Red Alert was about to turn to Inferno with the response of 'No, I'm too busy.' because he was busy, and this would only end in disaster and rejection once Inferno found out about his glitch. Clearly the mech didn't know, cause if he did, he wouldn't be asking for any of Red Alert's time right now. Saying 'no.' was a mercy for both of them. But before his could answer his internal comm came to life at the same time Inferno cleared his vocalizer,

"So..?"

:Red Alert, Sir. I've finished checking the cameras on the outer perimeter. All are functioning as they should be. Is it alright if I end my shift?"

"Yes."

Red Alert froze at his slip. He hadn't meant to say 'Yes' out loud, not to Inferno, but before he could correct himself Inferno was beamed up at him a smile that could light up a room,

"Great! Ah'll see ya after shift then!"

And with that, the tall red mech turned and sauntered happily down the hall. Leaving Red Alert staring after him, a horrible sinking feeling in his tanks.

Frag.

:Sir?:

:Yes. Yes, that's fine.:

:Alright, thanks. You have a good evening, Sir.:

Red Alert stared after Inferno till he rounded a corner.

Have a good evening…yeah, right. Not when you've just taken your first step down the path of disaster.

* * *

****Authors Notes****

Inferno makes Red Alert nervous. Stupid nervous! :) Inferno/Red Alert will be noticeably cuter and fluffier than Prowl/Jazz…I don't know why, they just come off to me that way.

Side note: I've known people who will do what Inferno here has done. They go out of their way to follow around a guy they think is cute and want to talk to, waiting for just the right moment to introduce themselves. This can go on for 20-30 mins before the intro is made. My question, after all this running around, is always "Why didn't you just go say 'Hi." when you first saw him?". The usual response was "Cause that would be weird.". Yeeeah, it never occurs to them it might be weird to follow someone around for 20-30 mins. Always made me laugh.


	10. And Then There Were TwoMore

Update! Yay! XD

A BIG thanks to everyone whose read, faved, or reviewed. So greatly appreciate it!

* * *

Warnings: slash

"Vorn" about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" about 6 months, "Decacycle" about 1 week, "Cycle" about 1 day, "Orn" about an hour, "Breem" about a minute

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**And then there were two...more**

* * *

Quickly putting the camera back together, despite the static laced feed he'd still get because he hadn't had the proper time to fix it, Red Alert made his way quickly back to the Security Room. He'd be unassisted this shift, which meant he'd be able to work on a few things of interest. Items he'd found IN the Security Room when he did a sweep. The fewer who knew he'd made this discovery, the better.

Five little homemade cameras lay on his desk. They were puzzling to him. These were not of Decepticon origin and weren't placed in a manner to retrieve any kind of sensitive information. Which made him wonder what their real purpose was for. He'd spent a good few orns detailing the cameras, while watching the monitors, and had started taking one apart when Jazz walked in. Which shouldn't have happened because Jazz didn't have the codes to the door lock.

Jazz came to a stop when he noticed the glare Red Alert was directing at him, "What?"

"Stop hacking the door. You want to open the door, your suppose to use the set security codes."

Jazz shrugged, unfazed by the reprimand, "Alright, gimme the codes then."

"No. Your not authorized."

The saboteur just smiled, "Then the door gets hacked."

Red Alert sighed, "Jazz…"

Jazz swiped a chair, scooting it next to where Red Alert sat at his desk, sitting down, he leaning back as he watch his friend turn back to the little cameras on his desk, "Whatcha got there?"

"Cameras. I found them here in the room when I did a sweep." Red Alert stilled and glanced suspiciously at Jazz, "These wouldn't be your Ops cameras would they?"

"Nope." The answer came too quick, held too much confidence. Red Alert's optics narrowed, "But you haven't even looked at these, how would you know?"

"Not Ops, Red."

"Are there Ops cameras in this room?"

Jazz leaned forward, looking at one of the cameras closely, "Hmmm, wonder who put these together."

"Because if there are, Jazz, I'll find them."

Jazz gave an all too knowing smile even though his gaze didn't break from the homemade camera, "So, I hear you an' Inferno will be knockin' back a few once shifts are done."

Red Alert stiffened in his seat, shoulders tensing, "How… Did…did he tell you that?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Jazz glanced up at Red Alert, taking in the frown, the tense posture, suspicion already rising in those optics. He offered up a soft smile, "'Ferno's a friend. Friends talk."

"And plot."

The smile widened as Jazz shook his head, "He's not plotting anything, Red."

Turning back to dissecting the camera, Red Alert mumbled, seemingly more to himself than Jazz, "We'll see."

Jazz leaned back in his chair again, visor taking on a soft glow as he looked at Red Alert, "Ya know what your problem is, Red?"

Not even bothering to look up from his work, Red Alert engaged the conversation, "Enlighten me."

"You...need to relax."

Red Alert stopped what he was doing to give Jazz a bland look, "Wow, that's just…wow. That's so insightful. Thank you. Thank you, Jazz, because no one's _ever_ said that to me before. This is life altering. In fact, I can feel myself changing on the inside right now. Oh, the time I've wasted. If only someone would have said that to me sooner. Rest assured, I'll be seeking you out when I need such in-depth pearls of wisdom like 'You need to relax' in the future."

Jazz sat in his chair chuckling at Red Alert's sarcasm. Leaning his head back, Jazz gave Red Alert a wide, lazy grin, "Oh, Red...I like you."

Red Alert turned back to dissecting the camera with a soft snort, "Well, go like me somewhere else. I'm busy and I'd rather like some peace and quiet. Not to mention you're here for absolutely no reason."

Jazz sat forward then stood up, grin ever present, "Actually, that's not true! I came here ta let ya know the Twins are back on base."

Red Alert's head swung around to look up at Jazz, "What? N-no one...Prime didn't tell me _they_ where here."

"Didn't wanted to ruin the surprise!"

Red Alert's mouth opened and closed but no sound came out, prompting Jazz's grin to grow, "An' cause I'm so nice, I'm given ya a heads up. They've just been cleared from Med Bay...and they know you're here."

Red Alert opened his mouth to speak but Jazz cut him off, "Well! I'd best be goin'. Ya have a great shift, Red."

"I-"

"See ya!"

"But-"

Jazz was out the door before Red Alert could get any more out.

_Frag._

In the end, Red Alert had to give the Twins credit. They actually managed to show a small amount of self control by waiting a few orns before attacking the Security Room door. The loud bang, serving for what the twins liked to call a knock, caused him to jump, halting his dissection of the second homemade camera. Red Alert frowned as he looked at the door.

_No way._

Another bang, then Sideswipe's and Sunstreaker's voices rang through the thick reinforced door in an almost sing song manner,

"Red! Red Alert! Come on, we know you're in there!"

"Open the door."

"We're not going away till you do!"

"We can do this the easy or the hard way."

"Why make this harder then it needs to be?"

There was silence for a moment on the other side of the door as the Twins waited for him. Red Alert looked back at the camera he was working on, determined not to let them bother him. Ignore them, just ignore them. They'll get bored and go away.

Sideswipe's voice rang out and Red Alert could practically hear the mech smile, "Alright! The hard way it is!"

The two began pounding their fists against the door. Not in an attempt to break it down, only to create a constant stream of aggravating noise meant to break Red Alert's patience down. And it did. To his own credit, he lasted all of forty seven breems before the aggravation became too much. Standing, temper flaring, nearly kicking his chair away, Red Alert marched over to the door and furiously punched the button to open it. With a scowl on his face, he waited for the door to slide open before taking a deep breath, ready to launch into a tirade as he faced the delinquents, "You-oomph!"

A golden hand reached out and shoved him unceremoniously backwards into the room. Both twins stepped inside, letting the door slide shut and lock behind them. Red Alert fairly growled, "You two are not suppose to be in here!"

Sideswipe's grin was huge as he stepped toward the smaller red and white mech, arms spread wide, "Red Alert!"

Red Alert's optics went wide, "No. Don't. Sideswipe, I'm warning you-" He tried to dodge the red twin but only ended up running into his desk chair, giving Sideswipe the ample time he needed to swoop in and pull Red Alert against his chest plate in a big bear hug.

Sideswipe grinned down at his captive, purposefully ignoring Red Alert's snarl and glare and how he tried to squirm out of his grasp, "It's been so long! We thought we'd never seen you again!". Sideswipe actually lifted Red Alert off his feet, snuggling his black helm against Red Alert's red one, optics shuttered, humming contently. He looked like a youngling cuddling a favored toy. Sunstreaker smirked as he walked past them, "Cute."

Sunstreaker pulled up a large plush chair in front of the monitors, pulling out a tin of wax and a polishing cloth as he sat back. At the sound of the tin's lid being removed Red Alert looked over at him, "No, not in my chair."

Looking up, Sunstreaker frowned, "What?"

"Don't wax yourself in my chair. It'll smell of your wax for decacycles."

Sunstreaker bristled, "My wax doesn't smell."

Red Alert huffed, "Yes, it does. It has an odor. I don't-"

"Well, it's a pleasant one."

"I don't care, I don't want my chair smelling of your wax."

"It smells good, it's fine!"

"Not in my chair!"

"FINE!" Sunstreaker jerked out the chair, kicking it to the side as he reached over and picked up another chair, glaring at Red Alert the whole time. He slammed the chair down in front of the monitors, sitting himself down roughly in it. "Happy?" he snarled at Red Alert.

"No!" Red Alert snarled back, slightly distracted from his irritation by Sideswipe's giggling. "Ah, it's just like old times. Hey!" Sideswipe suddenly let go, Red Alert staggered back in surprise at the sudden release. The red twin danced over to Red Alert's desk, picking up one of the cameras, he glanced over at Red Alert with delight, "You found them!"

With a sigh, Red Alert joined him at his desk, "I should have guessed. Only you... You mind telling me why you placed these in here." He paused as he looked at the cameras, "And then tell me how the frag you made them."

Sideswipe took up the chair Jazz had sat in not that long ago, "I put them in cause rumor had it Stripnine was having a little illicit fling with his assistant in here. I had a bet going with Smokie, so I set these up to see if it was true."

Despite himself, Red Alert had to ask, "Was it?"

Sunstreaker, now happily polishing himself, smirked as he looked over at them, "No. Sides lost a good amount of high grade on that little gamble."

Red Alert shook his head, giving Sideswipe a disapproving frown, "Serves you right."

Sideswipe frowned down at the camera in his hand, "I could've sworn it was a sure thing. Hey, Sunny?" he turned, one camera in hand, "I thought we only put three cameras in here."

Sunstreaker shook his head, "No, there should be five, remember? You came back and put in two more when you wanted to get some blackmail on Stripnine." Sideswipe grinned, "Oh yeah!"

Red Alert gasped at him, "Blackmail on a Superior Officer?"

"Yeah!" came the happy response, "Course we didn't get anything good. Just Stripnine fragging different mechs every now and then but nothing really blackmail worthy." Sideswipe turned to him with a gleeful smile, "Wanna know who he fragged in here?"

Red Alert almost said 'yes', but he took a moment to look around the room. He didn't honestly want to know who had done what or done what where in this room when he really thought about it, "No, I'd rather not."

Sideswipe turned back to the cameras, "Good call, nothing real exciting anyway. Mech was boring."

Red Alert sat down in his chair next to Sideswipe, "Care to tell me how you managed to make these?"

"Sure! I started with-"

"Hey." Sunstreaker called from next to the monitors, "Someone's at your door."

Both Red Alert and Sideswipe stopped and looked over to the Security Room door.

"No." Sunstreaker leaned forward and tapped on a monitor, "The door to your quarters."

Both turned around in their chairs, in unison, to look at the monitor Sunstreaker was pointing to. Red Alert could clearly see Inferno standing outside his quarters door, knocking then standing back. Frowning, he checked the time. It was a bit past his shifts end, technically he should have been back at his quarters. Where was Ironhide to relieve him? Then another thought hit him.

"How do you know where my quarters are?"

Sideswipe leaned over toward Red Alert, whispering quietly, "We know everything." Red Alert slanted a narrow glare at him and made a mental note to check over ever inch of his personal quarters before he recharged.

Sunstreaker seemed to regard the mech they were looking at, "I think I know him from some where…"

"Oh?" A devilish grin took up Sideswipe's face, "Is he one of those you slagged good, Sunny, and put in Med Bay?"

"Sunstreaker!" Red Alert's voice held a wealth of reprimand.

Sunstreaker sneered as he turned to them, "I didn't touch him! So, both of you just settle down." He looked back at the mech in the monitor, "No, I think I was on some rescue patrol with him some decacycles back."

Red Alert fidgeted with his chair for a moment, optics downcast, "What'd...uh, what'd you think of him?"

That question earned him Sideswipe's attention. Sunstreaker, however, shrugged as he went back to waxing his arm, Inferno walking off screen, "I don't know. Nice, I guess." He paused to admire the shine of his arm plating, "Of course, no where near as nice as me but, then again, I'm just talking aesthetics."

"So, Red Alert," Sideswipe gave him a coy look, "Why's he knocking on your door?" Even Sunstreaker stopped waxing to look over at him. Red Alert turned around sharply, fiddling with one of Sideswipe's cameras, "He…wanted to know if I'd have some energon with him after shift."

He did not miss how Sideswipe's optics brightened. The red twin leaned in closer to him, "Oh! And are you?"

Red Alert hunched over his desk more, giving a small shrug. He didn't want to deal with this, with Inferno, now. It was too much, too soon. Couldn't they just say "Hi." as they passed each other in the hall for awhile? Build up to full sentences. Frag! He hadn't even done a full background check on him. He'd been too busy, had too many interruptions. Who knew what Inferno was capable of doing? No. No, there was no way he was going to have energon in a mostly empty commons room with a mech he knew nothing about. Absolutely not.

"Well, you'd better make a decision. He's right outside."

A gentle knock on the door caused Red Alert to drop the camera he'd been pretending to examine. Both twins looked at him expectantly. Another knock and Red Alert shook his head looking at the desk, "I...I can't. I'm...I'm busy." It sounded meek and pathetic to his own audios.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Red!" Sideswipe suddenly stood up and grabbed the edge of Red Alert's back armor by his neck firmly, "But that was the wrong answer!" Sideswipe pulled a startled Red Alert up out of his chair. Red Alert stumbled and sputtered, "What…what are you doing?"

When he saw that Sideswipe was leading him to the door, he struggled, "No! No, I mean it, Sideswipe! Let me go! Take your hands off me!" Sideswipe merely grinned, almost to the door, "Come on, Red."

Panic seeped into Red Alert's mind. No, he couldn't do this, he wasn't ready for this, he wasn't prepared! "Sideswipe! You…this…this is assault! Assault on a Superior Officer! Do you hear me? I'll…you'll be put in the brig for this! I mean it! Sideswipe, stop!"

Sideswipe pushed the button and the door whooshed open, "Oh, don't be such a sparkling."

"I'm not a- AH!" Red Alert found himself shoved into the hall way. He froze as he looked and saw Inferno's retreating form.

Sideswipe leaned out the doorway and hollered in Inferno's direction, "Hey! Hey, back here!". Then the red twin dipped back inside and shut the door. Red Alert stared at that door in disbelief. This could not be happening.

"Red Alert."

Red Alert turned to look at Inferno as he approached and was once again caught off guard by the genuine smile and warm manner directed at him. Inferno looked so please to see him. It felt…weird. Uncomfortable.

"Thought maybe ya couldn't hear me or somethin' happened to ya." Or you changed your mind...he left that one out. Red Alert shook his head, optics wondering to the floor. It was easier to look at the floor than at Inferno. The floor held no emotions, gave no responses, didn't look happy to see him or...disappointed when he said 'no'.

"So," Inferno stepped closer, foot and leg armor cutting into Red Alert's field of vision, "Ya ready ta go git some energon? Ah know Ah'm ready fer some! An' given how hard ya work, Ah'm sure you are too."

Red Alert forced his gaze to stay on the floor, "I'm sorry. I can't."

The was a pause and he watched as Inferno shifted his weight from foot to foot, "Oh."

Guilt crept in at the disappointment that laced that one word. But it was the truth. Ironhide was not here to relieve him, he couldn't just walk off. Besides, there was no reason for him to feel guilty, he'd meant to say 'no' in the first place. He didn't know Inferno and Inferno certainly didn't know him. Which meant he didn't owe Inferno anything. Certainly didn't owe him an explanation for cancelling on an invitation he never meant to accept in the first place.

So, of course, Red Alert found himself stumbling through an explanation, "I'm sorry but Ironhide was suppose to relieve me and he's not here. Not yet. Not... I don't know when he will be...so..."

He didn't like this. Didn't like how Inferno reduced him to feeling like a youngling, stumbling around and awkward, as if he were new to the terrain of relationships and didn't quite know how to keep his own footing. Ridiculous but he couldn't shake free of it.

"Oh!"

And Red Alert really wasn't sure if he liked the fact that his guilt ebbed away some because, this time, when Inferno said that word it held far less disappointment and far more understanding. Because Inferno's feeling weren't hurt. The problem with that was he shouldn't care what Inferno thought or felt, at all.

"Ah kin see the problem then." The smile, the happy pitch, which Red Alert didn't want to admit he liked, was back in Inferno's voice, "Well, how about we try fer-"

"How about ya try for right now?"

Red Alert's head snapped up and looked in Inferno's direction just as the larger red mech turned around. And there, leaning against the wall behind Inferno, was Jazz, grinning at the two of them, "Looks like I got here just in time." Jazz kicked away from the wall and walked around Inferno, giving his friend a pat on the arm as he passed and walked up to Red Alert, "Looks like I'll be relieving ya tonight, Red."

Jazz got a frown in response, "Where's Ironhide?"

The visored mech gave a smirk, "Had a little accident with some newbies on the firing range. He's fine but won't be up for his shift tonight. Prime called me in. And just in time, I see." Jazz wrapped an arm around Red Alert's shoulders and lead him away from the Security Room door, "Ya just go with Inferno an' have fun. Relax. Enjoy yerself."

Red Alert looked back at the Security Room door and hesitated, "But-"

Jazz tugged him closer, whispering to him, "Go. This is good for ya." And all but handed him over to Inferno. Red Alert turned back toward Jazz, a protest forming but it was immediately swallowed when he felt Inferno place a hand on the small of his back. He fell silent and allowed himself to be lead away as Inferno smiled down at him, "Come on, Red Alert, lets go git us some energon."

Jazz watched them go with huge grin stretching across his face till they rounded the corner, disappearing from sight. He shook his head as he chuckled to himself. If there was one mech he knew of that needed to be thrown flat on his back and 'faced good and proper, it was Red Alert. Granted that probably wouldn't be happening any time soon but still his opinion remained.

Sauntering over to the Security Room door, Jazz typed in the code. The door slid aside and he slipped through the doorway, coming to a sudden stop, the door sliding quietly shut and locking behind him. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked up and immediately froze when they saw Jazz. Silence fell as the three looked at each other. The saboteur flicked his gaze from the golden twin to the red one.

"Uh…" Sideswipe shifted in his chair, "I got some high grade."

Jazz stared for a second before grinning, "Well, break it out!". He flopped into the chair vacated by Red Alert and took a proffered cube, leaning back and kicking his feet up on the desk, angling himself so he could watch the monitors and still talk to Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker returned to his waxing, ignoring them both.

* * *

***Authors Notes***

Ok, so, Inferno thinks Red Alert is the best thing since sliced bread. While Inferno makes Red Alert feel, in essence, like little school girl with her first crush and all the awkwardness and insecurities that go with it. Don't worry, Red gets over it very soon! The relationship between the twins and Red Alert will be delved into. And Jazz, as always, is in the thick of everything.

Reading and reviewing is always loved and appreciated! Thanks for reading!


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